


Loose Photographs.

by LaurelSilver



Category: 2P Hetalia - Fandom, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Blood and Violence, Character Death, Demisexual Character, Family Reunions, Flashbacks, Gang Violence, M/M, Mafia Romano (Hetalia), Minor Character Death, Multi, Past Child Abuse, Religious Fanaticism, Tattoos, Trans Male Character, Transphobia, Violence, deadnaming, mafia, tense changes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-06-09 18:28:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 19,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6918265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaurelSilver/pseuds/LaurelSilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jett and Benny aren't trained in handling 'family issues'. They're builders, not therapists. They fix up houses, not relationships.</p><p>Their new project in Canada is perfect; new country, new opportunity to build their lives from the ground up. Even if the previous owner left almost all his wife's belongings everywhere, there's little major work to do.</p><p>So when Benny finds a scrapbook crammed under the fridge, tributes to children gone missing and evident abuse hidden between glue-heavy pages, the builders are left following a paper trail around the States. A paper trail of school websites, criminal records, and a tattoo like page.</p><p>It's funny how time can change a face.</p><p>[Warnings in opening notes]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for fic:  
> Death; including mentioned child murder, cancer, murder, and a death within the fic  
> Gore/violence; mostly mentioned or in flashbacks, description of fighting. Also guns  
> Transphobia and homophobia; mentioned and in flashbacks, including the t-slur, and an incidence of accidental transphobia/ignorance. Also deadnaming  
> Child abuse; mentioned and in flashbacks  
> Tense changes; flashbacks are usually in (brackets)  
> Casual swearing and some nsfw language

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters this chapter:  
> Jett Cook /Australia  
> Benny Scmidt /Luxembourg  
> Aldrich Beilchmidt (Vatti) /2p!Germania  
> Lutz Bielscmidt /2p!Germany  
> Sarah Jones (Mommy)  
> William Jones  
> Chloe Jones /2p!Canada (deadname)  
> Allen Jones /2p!America  
> Romeo Vargas /Ancient Rome  
> Lorenzo Cotello (Lutz's better half) //2p!Italy

The house is a tall, sweet place. Ivy up the wall, wooden doors and windows, slightly wonky stone chimney, the whole sweet shebang. A squat garage stands on one side of the house, and a swirled iron gate to the garden stands on the other. The driveway is long but narrow, and so Jett parked his truck up down the street, the previous homeowner’s shiny-clean car still stood on the gravel, swirled iron gate stood open to let it out.

Benny heads out first, ever the smarter-dressed of the pair with his shirt pressed and waistcoat buttoned and shoe shined. Little old ladies think he’s so lovely; ‘A real hit with the lasses you must be, dear’ (it never fails to make Jett giggle).

Benny knocks, and Jett saunters casually up the driveway as the homeowner answers. The homeowner is a soldier-straight man, a Mr Aldrich Beilschmidt according to the paperwork, with grey hair slicked back into a greasy ponytail. Tall, he seems to peer down his nose at the pair like they’re dog shit he’s unfortunately stepped in.

“Are you the builders?” he asks, accent vaguely German as he spits the words.

“Yeah, mate,” Jett says.

Benny gives him a gentle smack in the stomach. “Benny Schmidt. This is my partner, Jett Kirkland. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Benny puts a hand out to shake Aldrich’s.

Aldrich looks at the hand, shakes it quickly and whips his hand away. “I have a plane to catch, let’s not be here all day,” he says plainly, turning on his heel and striding into his house.

Benny and Jett share a look, Jett mentally swearing Aldrich down, and follow him. The house follows a typical colour scheme; wine red, cream, black, and some gold for warmth. The carpets seem to have been plush at one point, but have thinned over the years, pale down the middle after being trampled. Pictures hang on every wall, three children and two men smiling down from every angle, only a few pictures of the woman who had lived here.

Jett stares at the photographs with a light frown. He isn’t a man to frown often, an over-cheery attitude seeming to possess every lazy movement, every bright grin, and every gentle bounce of his step. He fits the profile of his profession well; skin gently tanned from long hours in the sun, shoulders broad and muscles developed in manual labour, hair and clothes messy.

“My ex-wife loved taking pictures,” Aldrich says plainly as he leads them into the living room, “A ridiculous hobby of hers but there was no talking her out of it.”

“Who’s the other man?” Benny asks politely.

“Her ex-husband. Army man. Killed in action.”

“Oh. I’m very sorry.”

“Never knew the man. Never cared to. Do whatever you find fitting with the photographs.”

“You’re not taking any?” Jett asks.

“I have some of my son, a couple of my stepchildren and ex-wife. I don’t need too many. I’m not a hoarder.”

The kitchen is much less stately than the rest of the house, all brown tiles and wooden cupboards and ancient stoves. A man, clearly Aldrich’s son, sits at the table playing a game on his phone, a backpack on the floor next to him. He had a similar long, proud face to his father, and the same arrogant posture. His hair is a soldier-short buzz cut, and his clothes, jeans and a wife beater tank, are less dignified than Aldrich’s suit but still clean and tidy. He is built ridiculously, muscles over swollen and almost fake-looking.

“Lutz,” Aldrich barks at him, “Finish showing the builders around. I have a plane to catch.”

“Your plane isn’t for another two hours, Vatti,” Lutz groans. His accent is almost completely Canadian, confident in its drawl.

Aldrich responds in German, and Lutz groans harder. Benny glares coldly at the pair, flicking his hair out of his eyes. (Jett winces internally; Benny is usually incredibly self-conscious about his heterochromia. Unless, of course, incredibly angry. Or concerned about Jett’s wellbeing. Or both.)

Aldrich bids the builders a forcibly polite English farewell, and leaves, dragging a large suitcase out from under the stairs.

Lutz stands. He’s just taller than Jett, and he stares down at them as his father had, more arrogant than Aldrich’s disgusted glare. He seems to smirk naturally, one side of his lips in permanent lazy curl.

“Vatti doesn’t like to be late to things,” he says calmly.

“Perfectly understandable,” Benny says tightly, “We have the blueprints to the house anyway, so if you want to get away from the redneck and the gay boy too, you can just leave.”

Lutz blinks at him, then laughs. “You’ll have to forgive Vatti-”

“I don’t think we will,” Benny interrupts.

Jett sighs, and heads back up the hallway. “I’ll bring the truck back up front.”

“Vatti’s not coming back to Canada anyway,” Lutz says as the front door closes, “He hates it here. He only married Mommy so she’d look after me.”

“I don’t mean to sound rude, but I really don’t care for your backstory,” Benny says sharply.

“Look, I know what he said was out of order. I know your friend’s not a redneck, I don’t know if you’re gay but whatever.” Lutz takes a deep breath. “There’s been a lot of issues with my stepsiblings, they both ran off and I didn’t want to get kicked out too. Survival, y’know?”

“I said; I don’t care for your backstory,” Benny repeats.

Lutz sighs. “Just… whatever. Let me show you the garden and upstairs and stuff.”

Benny doesn’t respond, but follows him back through the house and up the stairs. The house is only three stories high, including the attic bedroom. The wine red theme stays on the stairs, landing and in the guest room. Aldrich’s old room is minimalistic, only a bed and a now empty desk. His wife’s room is larger, and slightly dusty with floral curtains.

The remaining room is a pink abomination. The walls are pink, the furniture is painted pink, the lightshade is pink, the curtains are pink and lacy, and even the ceiling is a pale shade of pink. A single baby doll, lacy frock dusty and hair matted, sits on the still-made bed. A neon pink dresser sits by the window, the surface faded after ten years of standing in the sun. Some makeup and a couple of bottles of nail varnish are shoved against the mirror, and a couple of photographs stand in seashell white frames in front of them. A rifle leans in the corner.

“This was Chloe’s room,” Lutz says, gesturing around, “She got sent off to boarding school because she was a troublemaker. She never came back.”

“What do you mean ‘she never came back’?” Benny asks, slightly shocked.

“I thought you didn’t care for my backstory,” Lutz says, smirk spreading.

 “Honey, I’m home!” Jett yells, closing the front door behind him.

Lutz snorts with laughter.

“Up here,” Benny yells back.

Jett heads up the stairs two at a time, finding Benny and Lutz. “Oh. You’re still here.”

Lutz just smirks and pushes past the pair, back onto the landing and heads through the final door and up another flight of steps to the attic bedroom.

“This was mine and Allen’s room,” Lutz says as Jett and Benny follow him.

The room is spacious, the two beds in the middle of the room with a small gap between. Lutz is able to walk around the middle strip of the room without crouching, the highest point of the room being about a foot above his head, the lowest a foot below. Boxes on wheels, now empty, sit under the bed and random sports equipment lines the edges of the room. Another rifle lays over the end of one of the beds. Framed photographs stand on the floor, just out of the way of the top of the stairs.

“Mommy always kicked up a fuss if Vatti tried to move Allen or Chloe’s stuff,” Lutz says, leaning on the rifle-less bed, “She was usually really timid and mouse-like, but not when it came to her kids.”

“What about her ex-husband’s stuff?” Jett asks, “Don’t think I’ve seen any American soldier stuff. Except the rifles.”

“Yeah, William. Vatti won on that one. The stuff’s all in the shed. C’mon, I’ll show you.”

Lutz leads the pair back downstairs, through the kitchen and outside. The garden starts with a tiled patio outside the kitchen door, with a plain brick path cutting through the lawn to the shed. More rose bushes line the fence, and some plant pots of flowers stand on the patio. Behind the shed, the garden opens straight out into the forest behind it (and it all comes with the house. Benny wasn’t sure how the house was so cheap with so much land to it, but Aldrich had been eager to leave Canada as quickly as possible.)

From the next garden, a man peers over the fence. Lutz sends him a wave, and the grey curls duck back out of sight and scarper inside. Lutz chuckles.

“That was Romeo. William’s stuff’s all in there,” Lutz says, pointing to the shed, “All the actual gardening stuff is in the back of the garage. Like Vatti said with the photos; do what you want with it all.”

“You don’t want any of the photographs?” Jett asks.

“Nah. I got the digital copies and some scans, I haven’t got the space for physical copies. The better half'd hate them anyway,” Lutz says, “Everything I want, I’ve already got.”

“So you have no reason to be here, then?” Benny says.

“Babe! Don’t be fucking rude!”

Lutz just laughs. “Nah, it’s good. It’s not my house anymore. But, can I just ask a tiny favour.”

Benny glares at him. Jett nods.

“If you hear from Chloe or Allen, can you give me a call? My number’s on the paperwork. Please, I really want to see my siblings again sometime.”

Jett nods again. “Yeah, we’ll give you a bell.”

Benny remains silent.

“Thank you,” Lutz says, and smiles. For a split second he doesn’t look like an arrogant douchebag. He’s surprisingly handsome.

Jett walks with him to pull his motorbike out of the garage and around Jett and Benny’s truck, and gives him a short wave as Lutz tears off, bag on back and helmet on head.

“I didn’t like him,” Benny says bluntly as Jett returns to the kitchen.

“Bit harsh,” Jett says, “D’you want pizza?”

“Pizza sounds amazing. This kitchen’s shit.”

“Top priority, then?”

“Fuck yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AusLux was meant to be minor. I just put into a group chat "You give me a pairing who would be builders" and one guy answered with "AusLux" so I went "okay bro" and thus AusLux.  
> Sarah and William are invented OC's, not canon characters.  
> Story starts properly next chapter.


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters this chapter:  
> Benny Scmidt (B) /Luxembourg  
> Jett Cook /Australia  
> William Jones  
> Sarah Jones (Mommy)  
> Aldrich Beilschmidt /2p!Germania  
> Lutz Beilschmidt /2p!Germany  
> Allen Jones /2p!America  
> Chloe Jones /2p!Canada (deadname)  
> Romeo Vargas /Ancient Rome

"What do we do with all these photographs?" Benny asks openly.

Jett sighs, looking around the room. The living room is almost overloaded with photographs, frames lining the walls from ceiling to floor.

William's military portrait hangs above the mantelpiece, white ribbons over the corners and a medal fastened to the frame. He is a broad man, with chestnut hair and a wide American Smile. His hair is a little long for a soldier, probably only just within regulation. A book stands open under the picture, not a Bible but a notebook full of messages from friends and family. He was a troublemaker apparently, and he'd probably have been kicked out if he hadn't been so great with a rifle. (Warm, friendly and overflowing with character, so sad to see him go.)

"I feel bad taking some of these down," Benny says.

"I know what you mean," Jett says. "Most of them we can just take down and burn. Have a bonfire. With booze. And burgers."

Benny rolls his eyes. "We can't just burn them all! Can't we donate some of these somewhere?"

"Where to?" Jett says, "I doubt anyone's going to care about pictures of some random family."

"Some of them could go to a local museum or something," Benny says, "There's some good pictures of places around the city and stuff like that. A museum would probably take them happily, especially for free."

"And we burn the rest?"

"I don't know," Benny says, sighing. "They won't take this," he gestures up to William's portrait, "But I still don't want to burn it."

"I'll tell you what, B," Jett says, leaning on Benny, "We'll take them down, put them in three piles. Museum, burn, not sure. Then we'll ask around the neighbours if they know anyone who'd want the pictures from the 'not sure' pile. If we can't find anyone, we burn them, and at least we tried, yeah?"

Benny purses his lips. "I'm not sure."

"Alright, new plan; we deal with the kitchen, just avoid this room. We'll deal with it later. The kitchen is top priority."

"You really don't like these photographs, do you?" Benny laughs.

"No, they're creepy as shit."

* * *

Jett hoists the fridge onto the dolly and tips it towards himself. The fridge, probably at least two decades old, caves against the metal trolley, and Jett sighs. Luckily it hasn't broken, but it's still likely to. (Jett always has been rather clumsy, to the extent that Benny started carrying a mini first aid kit in his bag barely a month after they started dating.)

Jett wheels the fridge through the house, out the front door and up the ramp into his truck, letting it fall into the back with a loud clatter. He'll be glad to be rid of it.

He heads back inside, dragging the dolly behind him lazily. Benny sits at the kitchen table, turning a large book over in his hands.

"What's that?" Jett asks, pushing the dolly under the oven.

"I don't know," Benny says, "It was under the fridge."

"Was it?" Jett leaves the dolly standing there, heading over to Benny, "Why?"

"I don't know."

Benny puts the book down. It's old, leather bound, with a frayed ribbon tying it closed. The front is scraped, having barely fit under the fridge. Whoever put it there was obviously determined to keep it hidden there.

Benny pulls the knotted ribbon apart and opens it to the first page. It seems to be a scrapbook, double page spreads dedicated to an important day in the maker's life. The first spread is dedicated to moving into the house.

A photograph of William is in the centre of the first page, the film the photograph and its siblings had been taken on taped down the inner edge. The house in the picture is boarded up, the front garden overgrown, William in overalls with a huge grin and an optimistic thumb in the air. The logo of the estate agents has been cut off the stationery and glued down. The address is written in careful cursive in a box, and the words "William and I moving into our first house together. Lot of work to do, but William is confident he can fix it up."

In another handwriting, the words "So happy to meet you both, best of luck in your new home and new life! If you need anything, I'm just next door – Romeo" had been jotted on a note and glued into the bottom corner.

"That woman must have made it," Jett says, "Lutz's Mommy."

Benny nods tightly. "We should find someone to give this to. We can't just burn it."

"Lutz, maybe? He did say we could ring him."

"About his **siblings** , yes."

"I think he'd be interested in this, too. Maybe there's stuff on his siblings in here that she never told Aldrich. He wasn't the kind of guy **I'd** tell anything to."

"Neither was Lutz," Benny closes the book firmly, the spine crackling, "If we give this to anyone, we need to give to one of **her** children, not her stepson."

"Alright. How do we contact them?"

Benny pauses. "I don't know."

"We've got Lutz's number, surely we've got the other two's number?"

"I don't think so," Benny gets up, "Just Aldrich and Lutz. The paperwork's in my bag."

"Of course it is, B," Jett says with a giggle.

Benny pokes him in the side, heading to grab his bag from the hall. "Yep," he leafs through the paperwork, "Just Aldrich and Lutz. No Chloe, no Allen."

"That's their names?"

"Yes. Lutz told me."

"And he didn't give you a way to contact them?"

"No. There were issues, apparently."

"Issues?"

"I don't know, Jett! I didn't really want to hear his backstory, he didn't say much!"

Jett narrows his eyes, standing quickly and stomping to the living room, pushing past Benny.

"Jett!" Benny cries, following him.

Jett stops sharply in the middle of the room, scanning the photographs. "There are no pictures of Chloe as a teenager."

"What?"

"Look;" Jett strides to the wall, picking up a photograph of Chloe. She has her mother's hair, curly in their ribboned bunches, and William's healthy tan, freckles heavy on her cheeks, dimples either side of her (slightly forced) smile.

"What about her?"

"She's about twelve here, right?" Jett says, "Maybe thirteen, but no older. There are no pictures of Chloe more modern than this one."

Benny frowns, looking around. "You can't know that for sure. There's a lot of pictures in here."

"And there's not many of Allen either," Jett says, "Especially not as an adult. There are pictures of Lutz as an adult, but not Allen."

"What are you saying?"

"I don't know, B. But this is freaking me the fuck out."

"There'll be a reasonable explanation."

"Like what?"

Benny takes a breath. "Lutz mentioned that Chloe got sent to a boarding school and just didn't come back."

"What do you mean 'didn't come back'?!"

"I don't know, Lutz didn't tell me!"

"Oh my fucking god," Jett nearly drops the photograph, pressing a hand to his head in shock, "There are two kids' bodies under our fucking house, aren't there?"

"What?"

"There were 'issues' – Aldrich killed them and buried them under the house!"

"You've been watching too many horror films, Jett."

"I don't see you coming up with a better explanation!"

Benny sighs. "Look, the photographs are just getting to you. Why don't we go next door, visit that Romeo we saw when Lutz was showing us around. We've earned ourselves a break already, and you need to calm down."

Jett nods. Benny takes the photograph off him, and leads him out by the hand.

As they walk past the photographs, Jett realises something else; in all his teenage photographs, Allen has some sort of physical injury. A few black eyes, a couple of split lips, bruised necks, and even his arm in a sling at one point in his mid-teens.

(Lutz has a split lip in one picture. That picture is also the only picture of a teenage Allen smiling.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the story begins
> 
> Random headcannons;  
> Benny is the more organised of the pair, and does most of their paperwork.  
> Jett watches way too many horror films. Partly as an excuse to cuddle. However, while he isn't generally scared while watching the film, he's terrified later.
> 
> Next chapter; Romeo talks about Choe and Allen as little kiddies!


	3. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters this chapter:  
> Romeo Vargas //Ancient Rome  
> Jett Cook //Australia  
> Benny Scmidt //Luxembourg  
> Sarah Jones  
> Chloe Jones //2p!Canada (deadname)  
> Aldrich Bielschmidt //2p! Germania  
> Lutz Bielschmidt //2p! Germany  
> William Jones  
> Allen Jones //2p! America  
> Nikolai Braginski (Chloe's Russian friend) //2p! Russia  
> (Officer) Yao Wang //China

Romeo is an elderly man with a young spirit still burning bright. He’s tall, handsome, silver hair still thick and curly, wrinkles deep around his mouth and eyes with laughter. He’s quite dramatic, singing loudly in Italian as the kettle boils for coffee, waving his hands extravagantly as he speaks.

“It’s so good to have some fresh faces around here!” he chatters, “And two dashing young gentlemen too!”

Jett pulls a face, and Benny smiles politely.

“If there’s ever anything you need, you just give me a knock and I’ll be happy to help!” Romeo continues.

“Actually, we were hoping you could tell us about the woman who used to live next door,” Benny says, “There are a lot of photographs, and we’re just curious, I suppose.”

“Ah yes! Sarah liked taking photographs. I kept telling her to go into professional photography, “All the ladies have jobs of their own,” I told her, but she wouldn’t listen to me!”

“There aren’t a lot of pictures of her daughter,” Benny cuts the ramble off quickly, “Was she shy?”

“Chloe? Oh, no, she wasn’t a shy girl! Didn’t talk much, but completely confident in what she had to say. Aldrich had her sent off to a boarding school in the States. I told him he mustn’t, “Send that Lutz off,” I told him, “That rascal hit her first, he had it coming!” but he wouldn’t listen to me!”

“Woah! Woah!” Jett cries, holding up a hand to stop Romeo, “Slow down! Start again! What?”

Romeo chuckles. “I apologise. How much do you want to know?”

“Everything,” Benny answers.

“Did anyone die?” Jett answers at the same time. Benny face palms.

Romeo laughs again. “No, no one died. Not there, anyway.”

Romeo had only lived in his house a few months when Sarah and William had moved in. They were a lovely couple, friendly, hard-working and deeply in love with each other.

Chloe and Allen were both born in the house, Sarah’s mother travelling north to aid in the births. They were christened within a month of their births; Chloe Matilda Jones and Allen Samuel Jones, baptised in the Catholic St Echo Church under the same Father Coughlan. Their grandfather, William’s father, gave them their first rosaries the day of their baptisms. (Romeo laughs as he recounts Allen putting the cross straight in his mouth and chewing on it.)

William had been eager to teach Allen how to shoot and hunt. Chloe had been curious and, dressed in clothes borrowed from Allen to keep her dresses clean, had joined her father and brother in the forests around the back of the house. Sarah had never liked her playing so rough, but it always made Chloe so happy that she let it slide.

Chloe had been nine when William was drafted to war, Allen was eight. He was killed in action, Sarah was destroyed, and Chloe and Allen just couldn’t understand why their Dad wasn’t coming back. Romeo would often babysit them when Sarah was too sad to get out of bed.

It had been Romeo who suggested she looked for a new partner. Not just as a father figure to Chloe and Allen, but for emotional support for Sarah.

(Romeo is crestfallen has he speaks. He was a single father to his daughter, and his daughter a single mother to his twin grandchildren. But Sarah was incapable of independence. She refused to work, handle money, or even drive. “Those are men’s jobs,” she would say, “And I ain’t no man.”)

As the money William had left began to dry up, Sarah met Aldrich through an international chat room. Aldrich was a recently widowed man, his wife killed in a car crash, looking for a woman to take on the womanly duty of raising his eight-year-old son Lutz. He flew over from Germany, moved in, married Sarah and took over the family barely a year after William’s funeral.

Chloe and Allen didn’t like their stepfamily. They’d both talk back to Aldrich, Chloe sometimes swearing at him when he refused to let her play outside. They’d go running into Romeo’s house in an attempt to escape Lutz. Aldrich tried to several times to tell Romeo; “You can’t let Chloe and Allen in if you’re not going to let Lutz in!” but Romeo hadn’t listened to him.

Lutz was crude and selfish, stealing Allen’s toys, yelling at Chloe and trying to slap them both around. Chloe would fight back, all nails and snarls, and Lutz would tear her dresses. (Chloe never cared about her damaged dresses. She never liked them anyway.)

Their Final Fight was in Romeo’s garden. Chloe, aged twelve, had cut her hair short with the kitchen scissors, and Romeo had helped her fix it after she ran away from Aldrich’s yelling. Lutz followed, forcing his way into the house after her, Allen in tow. Lutz had grabbed Chloe by the hair, trying to drag her back to their house, and Chloe had fought back. A punch to the jaw, a glittered plimsoll to the crotch, and an aggressive spit on his shoulder, and Lutz was laid sobbing on Romeo’s lawn.

(“He’d had it coming,” Romeo says firmly.)

Aldrich had her sent to a school in Brooklyn, down south. Not Catholic, but an Orthodox boarding school dedicated to straightening bad children out.

She came back for the Christmas holidays dressed in a boy’s version of the school’s uniform, borrowed from her new Russian friend. It was far too big on her, but Romeo hadn’t seen her so happy in a long while.

Aldrich hit the roof. Yelled at her so loud Romeo could hear him from next door. He watched Allen run out the house, hiding behind the shed with his hands clamped over his ears and his eyes squeezed shut. He watched Chloe storm out the house in the opposite direction, heading back to the airport with her suitcase dragging behind her. She never came back.

Lutz turned his aggressions to Allen. What had been fights with Chloe became a literal beating; Allen cowering against the fence with his arms over his head. He always blamed Allen’s injuries on sports or games or things happening at school. Aldrich referred to Allen and Lutz’s ‘playing’ as ‘rough housing’ and ‘boys being boys, you know how they are at that age’. Romeo always told him it wasn’t just rough housing, but Aldrich never listened to him.

Allen left on his sixteenth birthday and never came back. The local detective, Officer Yao Wang, had given up the search after a week. Sarah was devastated but Aldrich never cared.

Lutz stayed with Aldrich until he was eighteen, then moved away to terrorise someone else. Barely two months later, Sarah collapsed in the kitchen and Aldrich found her there, laid next to the fridge. He rushed her to hospital, and got the bad news. The Big C. She died barely a year later.

Aldrich put the house on the market instantly, and started looking for somewhere to move back into in his homeland. Lutz wanted to stay in America, but moved back north to keep an eye on the house while his Vatti moved back to Germany. They didn’t expect to sell the house so fast.

“And that, gentlemen, is the story of the Jones family!” Romeo finishes with a dramatic wave of his arm.

“And they just didn’t come back?” Jett reiterates, “And that doesn’t strike you as suspicious.”

“I watched them both leave. They came to say goodbye to me before they left,” Romeo says cautiously.

“You must have been very important to them,” Benny says gently.

Romeo smiles bitterly. “I hope so. I tried to love them. They were like my own kids. Or more grandkids, really.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random headcannons;  
> Romeo can, and will, talk your ear off. He's very friendly, and talks to everyone like he's known them his whole life. His recollections of things can be a little jumbled at times though.  
> Lutz is staying in America with his boyfriend  
> Romeo has worried about Chloe and Allen a lot. Not so much anymore, though.
> 
> Next chapter; Jett doesn't know what to do with the photographs and scrapbooks


	4. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters this chapter  
> Jett Cook //Australia  
> Chloe Matilda Jones //2p!Canada (deadname)  
> William Jones  
> (Uncle) Simon Jones  
> Allen Jones //2p!America  
> Sarah Jones  
> Aldrich Beilchmidt //2p!Germania  
> Lutz Beilchmidt //2p!Germany  
> Benny Scmidt (B) //Luxembourg  
> Romeo Vargas //Ancient Rome
> 
> Quick warning; mentions of child abuse

Jett sits with the scrapbook open in his lap. Just under a third of the way through the book, the double page spread is dedicated to Chloe. A copy of her ultrasound, some of her first pictures, random comments from relatives. Pieces of scrap paper, all dated, with more of Chloe’s first moments. Her name, Chloe Matilda Jones, is in pink cursive across the top.

“She’s got William’s freckles! – Uncle Simon” “She loves sweet things. Especially maple syrup, apparently. 08/23/94” “Chloe said her first word today; ‘Cake’. We spoil her too much! 10/08/94”

The next double page spread is pictures of William with his rifle and Chloe in a frilly pink tutu, little Chloe barely six months old. The title “Boys, meet my Daddy” is written in capital letters, a different handwriting to other titles in the scrapbook. The pictures are more crudely placed, with no other notes or pieces. Probably done by William.

(Jett supresses a mutter of “Fucking **straight people**.”)

About a dozen spreads later, Allen arrives. His first word was ‘Fair’. He liked vegetables. He laughed a lot. He had Sarah’s dimples and William’s messy dark hair.

Spreads on holidays, Chloe and Allen’s first days at school, their school productions. Little bits of their artwork. Pictures of birthday parties surrounded by leftover glitter and cut-outs of wrapping paper.

Jett pauses at a spread dedicated to William. A passport photograph of William in his uniform, smiling brightly. Chloe and Allen, side by side in all black dress, Chloe holding up a picture of their father, Allen holding up a Canadian flag. They both look confused.

Only three pages later, the spread is dedicated to Aldrich and Lutz. An English – German glossary of ‘important words’ (from _please_ to _orange_ _juice_ to _good_ _morning_ to _Holy_ _Ghost_ ) takes up the right-hand page.

In their pictures together, Chloe, Allen and Lutz smile politely, but forcibly. There’s always a larger gap between Lutz and his stepsiblings than there is between Chloe and Allen.

Sarah comments “Chloe and Allen are taking a while to get used to Lutz. I’m sure they’ll all be best friends in no time! 06/07/04”

Jett half-smiles at how naïve Sarah seems to have been. (Surely she realised Chloe and Allen would actively avoid Lutz? Obviously not. Poor woman.)

Jett continues to flick through the album. Just after halfway through, several pages are more writing than pictures or collages, like diary entries with a couple of photographs.

A picture of Chloe, aged about twelve, is stuck down in the top corner. “Chloe came home for Christmas but she left. She’s cut her hair again, and I told her it was a shame. She has such lovely hair. She started shouting and crying. “She can do what she wants with her hair” she said. Aldrich showed his hand and she ran off. Allen and Lutz were so upset. 12/20/04.”

Jett’s fingers tighten around the book, and his cheek seems to ache with faded bruises and old, unhealed, invisible scars. His father’s wedding ring would glint in the light as he raised it, it would sting on Jett’s cheekbone, and the mark it would leave would be significantly darker (or angrier, bruises get called angry, and Jett always thought those particular bruises suited ‘angry’ rather than ‘dark’ or ‘painful’). But it never seemed to cut him. He could always make up an accident, a lie as to why his cheek was purple.

He closes the book sharply. “Benny?” he calls.

“Hm?” Benny responds from the hallway.

“D’you fancy kebab for tea? I could really go for a kebab.”

“Whatever you like, babe.”

“Thanks, B.”

* * *

 

Benny lays over the couch, blanket wrapped around his legs, his head in Jett’s lap. Jett takes a drink of his lager and feeds Benny a chunk of his kebab.

“What are you thinking?” Jett asks, “With the colour scheme and that?”

“I think it works,” Benny says, “We might need to repaint anyway. We’ll struggle to get filler this shade of red. And we’re going to need a lot of filler anyway.”

“That’s true.”

The photographs have been taken down, organised into three groups. The ‘museum’ pile has been put into a couple of cardboard boxes to take to the museum, the museum staff seeming eager to have new things to display. The smallest pile, the ‘burn’ pile, has been thrown haphazardly into the corner. The ‘unsure’ pile is actually several piles, far too many pictures to safely make one pile. Jett began to feel bad about burning the pictures as he took them down. (Especially the pictures of Allen as a teenager. Jett feels a strange connection to this boy he’s never met.)

“What about these pictures?” Benny asks, making Jett jump slightly, “We’re going to have to find Chloe and Allen, if we’ve got so many pictures we’re unsure about.”

“I don’t know,” Jett mumbles, “Maybe ask Romeo?”

“He hasn’t seen either of them since they ran off. Do you think they’ll have Facebook?”

“Jones is pretty common name, B. There’ll be loads of Chloe Jones and Allen Jones and it’s just going to be tedious searching through them all.”

Benny sighs. “Is there anything in the album?”

“I don’t know.”

“How do you not know? You’re barely put it down all day!”

“Is that a problem?”

“I never said it was, babe,” Benny sits up, shuffling up next to Jett, “What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing. What makes you think something’s the matter?”

“Jett.” Benny says seriously, sending Jett an even stare, hair flicked out of his hair. “What’s the matter?”

Jett deflates. “It’s Allen. And his injuries. And there was stuff written down about Aldrich hitting Chloe and… it just stirred shit up, y’know. And Sarah knew he was hitting them. And she just let him. I’ll never understand how mums can do that, never.”

Benny rubs a hand on Jett’s shoulder and back, and Jett slumps into him, staring at the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random headcannons  
> Allen's middle name is Samuel  
> Jett is no longer in contact with his family
> 
> Next chapter; Jett and Benny track down the school Chloe attended, and find a Facebook page for a tattoo artist


	5. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters this chapter:  
> Benny Scmidt //Luxembourg  
> Jett Cook //Australia  
> Aldrich Bielschmidt //2p!Germania  
> Chloe Matilda Jones/Matvei Braginski //2p!Canada  
> Nikolai Braginski (big Russian guy) //2p!Russia  
> Sarah Jones

Benny leans against the kitchen counter, flicking through the scrapbook. Jett sits on the floor next to him, dismantling the kitchen table. The chairs have already been dismantled and thrown into a pile at the end of the garden. A mug, a chipped charity mug Aldrich left, sits next to Jett, half-full of nails, screws and pins. (Aldrich seems to have been a pretty shit handyman.)

“Preen-yah-tee-aye,” Benny reads.

“What the fuck?”  Jett asks plainly.

“Preen-yah-tee-aye Orthodox School,” Benny says, holding up the scrapbook, “The school Chloe went to.”

“How do you know?”

Benny gives the scrapbook a shake. Jett gets up, leaning over Benny to take a look at the spread.

A picture of Chloe in her uniform, practically glaring at the camera. The girls’ uniform is a short black pinafore, white blouse and socks, bright red blazer and beret. (Her hatred for the outfit seems to burn out of the photograph.)

Receipts for the uniform pieces (including several lengths of red ribbons, different styles of white socks, plain black shoes, and nude underwear) have been glued over the pages, and some little pictures of the outfit pieces from the packaging glued next to the receipts. The prices and shops have been cut away from the receipts, but Jett doesn’t dare to guess the prices.

In the middle of the spread, a piece of paper has been folded and taped in, making it turn like a small page. Benny has opened it, revealing it to be a letter. Addressed to Allen and ‘the others’, signed Chloe, the paper is personalised stationary from the ‘Prinyatiye Orthodox School for boys and girls. The badge, an Orthodox cross with two candles either side, is at both the top and bottom of the page.

“Dear Allen,” Chloe wrote, “And the others, I suppose, if you care.

“Got another detention. Apparently pointing out that God did a shit job of watching two people, never mind six billion, is blasphemy.

“The big Russian guy from the rifle range was there. Refused to pledge allegiance to the American flag. Because he’s Russian. His name’s Nikolai.

“It turns out the same coach also covers hockey and army cadets. Girls are allowed in, but do separate stuff than the boys. Gentler stuff. Boys play hockey outside with rubber balls and wooden sticks, girls play inside with hollow balls and plastic sticks. Boys march and shoot rifles, girls march and clean rifles. You get the picture. It’s bullshit.

“I’ve already written my lines. “God is watching, therefore I shall be good” every line, both sides of the paper. Done that every day this fucking week.

“Detention’s nearly over, will write soon.

“Chloe.”

Benny folds the letter back up as Jett finishes reading it aloud.

“I don’t think a lot of Chloe Jones will have been to that particular school,” Benny says.

“I’m not checking every Chloe Jones Facebook page for that,” Jett says plainly, “Besides, I don’t think American kids tend to put their middle school on their Facebook page.”

Benny sighs. “We could Google it.”

“If Americans put their middle school on the Facebook page?”

“No, dumb-head! The school!”

Jett hums, kisses Benny’s cheek, and heads upstairs to grab Benny’s laptop.

Benny and Jett have moved into what had been Sarah’s room. They’ve cleared it out, leaving only the double bed to sleep in and a wardrobe to put clothes in. Benny’s laptop is on the floor, plugged into the charger. (Jett’s laptop broke a while ago, and Jett hadn’t used it enough to justify replacing it. All his social media is on his phone.)

Jett carries the laptop down, putting it down on the counter and opening Google.

“P-R-I-N-Y-A-T-I-Y-E or-th-o-dox school,” he mumbles as he types, and drums his fingers on the counter as the page loads.

The first result is the school website. “We are a school in North East Brooklyn dedicated to traditional Orthodox teachings in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost. We promise to produce pure Christians with both a fear and a love of God. We will set our students on the path to righteousness, free of sins both Original and modern.”

“There’s a phone number,” Benny points to the corner of the webpage, leaning against Jett, “We could call and ask after her.”

“Okay, first of all, it’s a Sunday morning and this is a Christian school. Ain’t no fucker gonna be there,” Jett says plainly, “And second, what reason do we **actually** have to be asking about her?”

Benny sighs. He doesn’t have a response to that.

Jett moves the mouse around the webpage. For a proudly in-tradition school, its webpage is pretty modern and sophisticated. A news column in the side bar shows the latest updates in Christian and American Orthodox communities, the banner across the top scrolls steadily through well-sized photographs of students, hovering over icons under the banner produces a menu of subcategories. The ‘previous years’ icon gives a list of ‘Class of ____’, the years ranging from 1999 to 2015.

“What year would Chloe have left the school?” Jett asks.

“Well, it’s probably a middle school, so she would have been thirteen when she left so…” Benny thinks for a second, “Maybe 2005?”

Jett clicks on ‘Class of 2005’. “Those are not thirteen year olds.”

“No, they’re about eighteen. Try 2010.”

The ‘Class of 2010’ page is much more detailed, almost like a virtual yearbook. Prom King and Queen; Ceil Phantomhive and Elizabeth Midford. Hottest boy; Mihael Keehl. Hottest girl; Mary Winchester. Most rebellious; Chloe Jones and Nikolai Braginski.

Jett clicks on the line, and another page loads with a chart and a prom picture.

Chloe referred to Nikolai as ‘the big Russian guy’ and she wasn’t exaggerating. He stands almost a head and a half taller than her, dark hair messy and clothes not quite straight. Tattoos line his neck and wrists, peeking out under the collar and cuffs of his formal shirt. The picture isn’t of a great quality, probably taken in a hurry, giving Nikolai a flat face and squinting eyes. He and Chloe stand with the teachers, her dress and his tie in matching shiny red, their teachers dwarfed next to the pair. The teachers’ smiles are strained at best, and Chloe and Nikolai aren’t even bothering to try. Chloe has grown up to look mostly like Sarah, but better tanned and with shorter hair. It’s less boyish than when she’d cut it as a young girl, reaching her shoulders, but is still far off the ribboned bunches Sarah had framed all over the house.

On the chart, the names ‘Nikolai Braginski’ and ‘Chloe Jones’ are typed in bold in the top row. Down the left-side column, a long list of crimes (from swearing to disrespecting authority to sneaking out to refusing to pledge allegiance to the American flag to disrespecting our good Lord). The rest of the table is all numbers, tallying up their crimes. Nikolai regularly refused to pledge allegiance to the flag. Chloe regularly swore and behaved ‘in an unladylike manner’.

At the bottom of the page is a comment section linked to Facebook, several students having left comments like “lol” “they are so going to hell” “they’re together now isn’t that cute” “how do you get in trouble that many times”. Someone (a Matvei Braginski) has commented a paragraph Jett can’t be bothered to read.

“She grew up quite pretty, didn’t she?” Benny says, “Even if that dress is hideous. We could look for her on Facebook, you know.”

“I told you, B, Jones is a really common name,” Jett says, closing the tab.

“Not Braginski, though. Someone commented they’re together, we could look for a Chloe Braginski.”

“Doesn’t mean that they’re married. Or that she took his name; you heard Romeo she wasn’t into that shit!”

“Just try anyway!”

Jett sighs, and re-opens the browser, heading to Facebook. There are absolutely zero results for ‘Chloe Braginski’.

“Try Nikolai Braginski.”

There is only one result for ‘Nikolai Braginski’, a like page. He’s a highly sought-after tattoo artist, it seems. Pictures of tattoos fill the page, with the occasional picture of the shop. Scrolling through, a blond figure with a short ponytail appears a lot with designs drawn on their back, their descriptions calling it ‘piece practice on Matvei’. (Matvei seems to have tattoos all up and down their arms and sides, but their back is left blank. Their skin is heavily freckled on the back of their neck.) Several people have posted on the wall to request tattoos, with a copy-and-paste comment of “Allow me to message you to discuss bookings and the price in private”.

“Well, we are no further than we were before,” Jett sighs.

“We could always visit Nikolai,” Benny suggests, tone light and teasing, “Get that tattoo you’ve been considering, ask after Chloe while we’re there.”

“We are **not** going all the way down to Brooklyn to chase after some Shelia we’ve never even met!”

“That’s why we could get you the tattoo at the same time.”

Jett glares at Benny out of the corner of his eye. “No.”

“I think it’d suit you.”

“I’m not sure I even **want** it!”

“You’re never convinced you want anything unless its beer or a burger!”

“Or you,” Jett leans into Benny, grinning, “Beer, burgers and Benny. The three B’s I’ll never turn down and always enjoy.”

Benny shoves him playfully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prinyatiye (принятие) means acceptance in Russian  
> Matvei is a Russian diminutive of Matthew
> 
> I was going to include Ciel, Elizabeth, Mihael and Mary in the character list, but decided against it. Ciel and Elizabeth come from Black Butler, Mihael from Death Note, and Mary from Supernatural.
> 
> Other stuff removed from this chapter;  
> The boy's uniform is black trousers, white shirt, red tie and blazer, black jumper and red beret.   
> Nikolai would also wear a red scarf that wasn't school policy, but he got away with it for two years as it matched the uniform scheme well enough. But in his third year, he got a new, stricter head of year who confiscated it and refused to give it back until the Christmas break. He would then carry it in his bag through morning assembly, and wear it for the rest of the school day.  
> The letter glued into the scrapbook is the third letter Chloe/Matvei wrote. Aldrich tore the first two up.  
> There was going to be 'exceptional examples' of Chloe and Nikolai's crimes, but I couldn't think of many. But there was;  
> \- Nikolai responding to the question "Who is your patron saint" with "Saint Jimmy"  
> \- Chloe hiding a cat in her room for three months  
> \- Chloe dressing in a boy's uniform (partially Nikolai's, partially stolen from lost and found) and pretending to be a new student 'Mathieu William'  
> \- Both skipping an afternoon class to attend a lecture on gender and sexuality at the 'atheist college', despite being explicitly told by the Father not to
> 
> Next chapter; Officer Yao Wang gives Jett and Benny a lead in finding Allen


	6. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters this chapter:  
> Romeo Vargas / Ancient Rome  
> (Officer) Yao Wang /China  
> Benny Scmidt /Luxembourg  
> Jett Cook /Australia  
> Allen Jones (Silver Bullet/Silver Eagle) /2p!America  
> William Jones (Allen's dad)  
> Chloe Jones/Matvei Braginski /2p!Canada  
> Sarah Jones (Allen's mum)  
> (Assistant Detective) Ludwig Schultz /Germany  
> Gilbert Edelstein-Hedervary (Yellow Bird) /Prussia  
> Lovino Vargas (Boss Romano) /Romano  
> Oliver Kirkland (Cupcake) /2p!England  
> Nikolai Braginski /2p!Russia
> 
> Warning for mentioned violence

Romeo is apparently good friends with everyone in the town, including the local police officer, Yao Wang. He invites Benny and Jett over for coffee with him and Officer Wang, and (once Jett has finished laughing at the name 'Wang') the pair happily oblige.

Officer Yao Wang is an aging man, dark hair streaked with silver and crow's feet in the corner of his thin eyes. He sits comfortably in Romeo's bright kitchen, hat on the table by the coffee and adornments, the two men chatting away. He shakes Benny and Jett's hands firmly when Romeo introduces them.

"They've moved into the Jones house to do it all up," Romeo tells Yao.

"Ah, the Jones. Nice family," Yao comments.

"Yeah, so nice two of the kids ran away," Jett deadpans, and Benny pokes him in the side.

"Well, yes. But apart from that they were a nice family."

"Yao was the lead officer when Allen went missing," Romeo says.

"Yes I was," Yao nods, "He was a clever boy, Allen. His dad was good at things like covering tracks, military trained you know, and he must have taught Allen well. We searched the woods all 'round the town for hours on end without finding a single trace of him. We even sent his description and photographs out to the neighbouring towns, but no one had seen him."

"Did you forward anything to Brooklyn?" Benny asks.

"Brooklyn? You mean in the States? Why would send anything that far?"

"That's where Chloe was," Jett says, "The school she went to was in Brooklyn."

"How did you know that?" Romeo asks, alarmed.

"You told us!"

"Oh yeah, so I did."

"Huh," Yao huffs, "You know, I think we might have a contact in Brooklyn. Back at the station, I'll have a look."

"Can you contact them? Ask about Allen and Chloe?"

" **I** can't. Allen's case is closed, and Chloe never had a case. _You_ however, might be able to contact them. With good reason."

"Is trying to inform him that his mother's died count as a good reason?" Jett asks, and Benny smacks him on the shoulder.

"I suppose it's reason enough, yes."

* * *

Yao sends them the contact, an Assistant Detective Ludwig Schultz, that evening. He emails the pair back within a day.

"Hello Benny and Jett.

"We do not have any police files on a Chloe Jones. We do have several files on Allen Jones, but I am not at liberty to discuss the details.

"However, most details are already available online. I can recommend that you search for 'Silver Bullet Brooklyn gangs'. Mister Jones has a rather hefty reputation.

"Mister Jones is no longer in police custody, and we have been unaware of his whereabouts for the past four years. If you do find any information on his current whereabouts, it would be very useful for you to forward this information to us in the interest of public safety.

"Thank you for your interest."

Jett immediately opens a new tab, searching 'Silver Bullet Brooklyn gangs'.

Silver Bullet is a notorious gang member with several charges against him ranging from disturbing the peace to theft to illegal firearm holding to premeditated murder. His gang, the Brooklyn Eagles, are notorious for their violence.

(Yellow Bird knew he had to leave the gang, but should have known better than to steal from Boss Romano. Boss Romano doesn't take kindly to traitors, Yellow Bird had killed traitors himself, and he knew betraying Boss Romano could only end badly. But he did it anyway.)

(Yellow Bird (Gilbert Edelstein-Hedervary, the press identified him) was found shot execution-style in a flat in South Brooklyn. Two others, a man and a woman not identified by the press, were found with him, also shot. In the pixelated pictures, the three seem to be reaching for each other.)

(Not a single report mentioned how hard Silver Bullet had cried as he's blown out the brains of one of his closest friends. Or how Cupcake had laid with him in silence, letting him sob helplessly. But of course the press never knew that.)

(Boss Romano had let Silver Bullet have the time off. He'd earnt it.)

A mugshot is featured on a news page, his grin sleazy and showing off William's dimples. He has William's broad shoulders and Sarah's round face, but the similarities stop there rather abruptly. Allen is missing a tooth, several shiny silver piercings adorn his face, and his hair has been dyed bright blue.

No updates on him in the news since he was bailed out (rumoured to have been bailed out by fellow gang member Cupcake) five years ago.

"Well, we're a **tiny** bit closer," Jett says, and Benny laughs.

"Want a beer?" he offers, "In celebration of definitely not having a dead body under our house?"

"I'm not about to turn down a beer, am I?"

Benny laughs, standing up and disentangling himself from the blanket he'd wrapped around himself and Jett.

Jett closes his e-mail and the tabs on Silver Bullet, heading to Facebook. Nikolai's page comes up in his recommended and once again Jett visits. He seems to be visiting the page more and more often, scrolling through the pictures, debating whether or not to get a tattoo himself.

Several new pictures have been added to or shared on the page since Jett had first visited, including a new picture of Matvei with pink and blue butterfly wings down his back.

A picture that catches Jett's eye is a blue and silver-grey eagle on a pale, freckled hip, uploaded by an Oliver Kirkland before being shared to Nikolai's page. Oliver's caption is full of emojis, only showing up as empty boxes on Benny's laptop. The text is still understandable, if a little cringey to read.

"No more bandages!" Oliver captioned, "And no more horrid itches! It hurt for a little while though, had to get my Silver Eagle to kiss it better more than once, tee hee! Love how this turned out, Nikolai Braginski is an absolute wizard! Mwah!"

And there at the bottom; "Allen Jones and 32 others like this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcannons/stuff left out of this chapter:  
> Yao is in his 50's, only twenty years younger than Romeo  
> Yao is a very corrupt policeman, easily paid off. Is this relevant? Maybe  
> Ludwig is dating Romeo's grandson Feliciano (Veneziano), which is how Yao came into contact with him via Romeo  
> In case it's unclear, the man and woman Gilbert was found with are Roderich (Austria) and Elizabeta (Hungary). The trio are in a polygamous relationship, and Gilbert ran away from the mafia in an attempt to keep his partners safe. Clearly it backfired.
> 
> I'll let you decide if Gilbert and Ludwig are related in this AU  
> Next chapter; Jett and Benny make contact with Allen, and he and his fiance travel up to Canada. Allen contacts Nikolai about Chloe.


	7. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters;  
> Allen Jones (Silver Eagle/Ali-baby) //2p!America  
> Oliver Kirkland //2p!England  
> Jett Cook //Australia  
> Benny Schmidt (B)//Luxembourg  
> William Jones  
> Sarah Jones  
> Chloe Matilda Jones //2p!Canada (deadname)  
> Aldrich Bielschmidt //2p!Germania  
> Lutz Bielschmidt //2p!Germany  
> Nikolai Braginski (Red) //2p!Russia
> 
> Right-aligned text signifies facebook messaging

In the five years since his Silver Eagle days, Allen Jones seems to have mellowed out, if only a little. The blue in his hair has grown out, and most of his piercings seem to have been taken out and allowed to heal. He moved to Connecticut, getting a manual labour job in a factory. On twenty-sixth of June 2015, he had proposed to Oliver, his boyfriend of six years.

“What are the chances,” Jett grumbles, Benny still flicking through Allen’s pictures and statuses.

“He’s even been tattooed by Nikolai,” Benny says, circling the cursor over a photograph of a cupcake tattoo, “The one man who might know what happened to his sister, and neither of them realised.”

“Or they did, and they’re not too interested in a family reunion.”

Benny sighs, poking Jett on the cheek, “Message him!”

“And say **what** , exactly?” Jett says, “Hi there, we know a guy who might know about your sister!”

“Or about the photographs and the scrapbook and all the other stuff in the house… y’know; the reason we started searching for him.”

“What if he doesn’t care though, B?”

“Then at least we tried.”

* * *

 

**Jett Cook**

Hi. I’m a builder who’s moved into your previous home in Canada, and there have been a lot of things left by your mother and stepfather we think you might be in. Mostly photographs.

**Allen Jones**

Are you sure you’ve got the right Allen?

**Jett Cook**

Son of William and Sarah, brother of Chloe?

**Allen Jones**

Holy shit you have the right Allen

**Jett Cook**

Oh thank fuck

**Allen Jones**

Lol

* * *

 

Allen and Oliver drive up to see the house two weeks later. By this time, Jett and Benny have ripped most of the furniture out and had a bonfire of anything unsellable, be it damaged or just plain ugly. (The bonfire has been the highlight of moving to Canada for Benny, complete with beer, burgers, smores, and Jett. Everything Benny enjoys.)

Allen has barely changed from his recent Facebook pictures. He’s about the height of Jett and smells of too much deodorant, and he greets the pair noisily with claps on the back like he’s known them all his life. Oliver is just shorter than Allen’s shoulder, pale skinned and pastel clothed, a permanent grin stretched into his cheeks.

The framed photographs are still stacked up in small piles, leant against the walls of the living room. Allen spends a long time sifting through them, smiling bitterly at the old photographs of Chloe and William.

Oliver keeps his distance, sitting in the dining room with Benny. He’s brought cupcakes. He’s a budding baker, he says, and he’d love to open a bakery but he just can’t find somewhere that doesn’t need major work within his budget.

Jett wanders around, stretching his legs. He reaches the living room, and approaches Allen cautiously.

Allen is sat on the floor of the living room, cross-legged like a school boy with the album open in his lap. His head snaps up when he acknowledges Jett (his eyes are wide, he expects he’s in trouble), then breathes a sigh of relief and visibly relaxes.

“It was under the fridge, that,” Jett say, gesturing vaguely to the scrapbook, “We think she might have been hiding it from Aldrich.”

Allen laughs hollowly. “Aldrich didn’t go in the kitchen unless he was heading through to the garden. Mom could’ve hidden it **in** the fridge and he’d never have found it.” Allen’s accent is heavily Brooklyn, bouncy with its Italian-American influence. “You found anything about Chloe?”

“Not a whole lot, no,” Jett says.

Allen sighs, but visibly tenses. “I thought you’d say that.”

Jett frowns, sitting down opposite him. “Why?”

“Well… look at this.” Allen flips through to William’s final spread. “This picture, me and Chloe. She’s got the picture of Dad, I’ve got the flag.”

“Yeah, I see that.”

“Now look,” Allen searches through the frames next to him, holding one up.

The picture is one of the first pictures of him and Lutz without Chloe, stood in front of the house. Allen in the picture is on the verge of tears, a smaller picture clenched in his fist. Lutz is proudly waving a Canadian flag and smiling.

“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be seeing,” Jett says honestly.

“Mom let Chloe and me take down our favourite picture of Dad, so he could be in the picture too. With the flag, too. When Aldrich arrived, he wouldn’t let us do that anymore because he was our dad now. Or Vatti, or what-the-fuck-ever. And then when Chloe left, Aldrich got me to hold my favourite picture of Chloe. And the flag.”

“Right… so…” Jett says slowly, still confused.

Allen takes a deep breath. “So… I think that… I think Aldrich killed Chloe.”

Jett straightens up in shock. “You fucking what now?!”

Oliver gasps from the dining room.

“I know it sounds crazy,” Allen cries, “But you didn’t know the guy! He was **fucked** **up**! He was always yelling and throwing things and he hit Mom and he said he’d kill her. The night she came back, Aldrich started shaking her and Aldrich said he’d put her down like a bitch and I think he did!” Allen’s breathing is ragged, “I think he killed her.”

“He didn’t,” Jett says gently, “He didn’t and I can show you he didn’t.”

Allen watches him as Jett gets up, half-jogging as he scurries into the hallway and upstairs. Oliver pads through from the dining room, Benny just behind. Jett grab’s Benny’s laptop, opening it as he heads back downstairs, balancing the laptop on one arm and typing in the password with his other hand. Precarious, but he makes it to the living room without dropping the laptop. Oliver has sat down next to Allen, one arm wrapped around Allen and Allen slumped into Oliver.

The school’s website comes up as soon as Jett types ‘Prin’ into the browser bar.

“Most rebellious?” Allen reads, and he laughs, “Suits her.”

Jett passes Allen the laptop. Letting him scroll through the chart of Chloe’s ‘crimes’. He giggles at most of them.

On scrolling back up to the picture of Chloe and Nikolai, his jaw drops. “ **Red**?!”

“I know, it doesn’t suit her right,” Benny muses, “It’s not really the colour though, it’s the shininess, it just makes her look lumpy. Maybe if she was more matte-”

“No! Red!” Allen points to Nikolai.

“Oh. Red.” Oliver says.

“What? The tattoo artist? He did Oliver’s eagle, didn’t he.”

“He did **my** eagle. He’s done most of my tattoos, that **asshole**!” Allen gets up, half-throwing the laptop at Benny.

“Ali-baby!” Oliver scolds.

“I know, babe,” Allen deflates, “I just… he knew… he was… I could have found her, y’know? I could have found Chloe.”

“Did you ever tell him you were looking for a Chloe Jones?”

Allen pauses. “No.”

“Did you ever tell him you have a sister?”

“I don’t think I did, no.”

“Did he ever even know your real name?”

“No.”

“Right then,” Oliver says firmly, “He couldn’t possibly have known to bring you both together, could he?”

Allen sighs, visibly deflating. Oliver gets up and lets Allen slump into him, curling down to his height.

* * *

 

**Allen Jones**

Hey Red, it’s Silver. I’m looking for my sister, Chloe Matilda Jones. You were apparently friends with her, are you still in touch?

(“He’s not going to answer immediately, love,” Oliver says gently.”)

(“You don’t know Red like I do,” Allen says, staring intently at the laptop screen.”

(“He might be tattooing someone.”)

(“He’ll answer!”)

(“Yes, in his own time.”)

(The laptop dings.)

(“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Jett deadpans.)

**Nikolai Braginski (page)**

Yes I am, but I don’t think this is something that should be told over the internet. When can you get to the shop next?

(Allen freezes. Jett snatches the laptop from him.)

**Allen Jones**

Is she dead?

**Nikolai Braginski (page)**

(It takes Nikolai thirty seconds after reading the message to begin typing.)

No

**Allen Jones**

Then why can’t you share it over the Internet?

**Nikolai Braginski (page)**

Because it has been over a decade and a lot has happened

**Allen Jones**

Is she okay?

**Nikolai Braginski (page)**

(Another pause)

Yes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random headcannons  
> Allen and Oliver met in the gang  
> The gang uses colours as nicknames. Allen was Silver Eagle, Oliver was Pink Cupcake, Nikolai was Red Bear.  
> Allen wears way too much AXE.
> 
> 26th of June 2015 refers to the day gay marriage was legalised across America. Allen had been planning on propsing, but was still figuring out a good time/way to do it.
> 
> Next chapter; Allen and Matt meet again, yay


	8. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters;  
> Jett Cook /Australia  
> Allen Jones /2p!America  
> Oliver Kirkland /2p!England  
> Benny Schmidt /Luxembourg   
> Nikolai Braginski (Kolya/Red) /2p!Russia  
> Matvei Vasily Braginski/Chloe Matilda Williams (Matt) /2p!Canada
> 
> Bold signifies emphasis  
> Italics signify it it said in Russian

Jett drives his truck south to the West Coast, Allen too worked up to drive safely. Oliver worries over him the entire way, alternating from rubbing his hands over his arms to kissing his face to playing with his fingers to combing through his messy hair to cooing in his ear. Allen barely pays attention, staring hard at the back of Benny's chair.

The tattoo shop (creatively called Nikolai Braginski Tattoos) is on a street that is usually quite busy, but it is abandoned in the dying evening light by the time they arrive. A club somewhere throbs with bass, the streetlights are dim and buzzing. The shop is well maintained, the front window is full of photographs of tattoos and tattoo progress and sketches. The door sign is flipped to 'CLOSED' but the light is on.

Oliver has practically drag Allen into the shop, commenting to Benny that he'd had to drag Allen into the Canadian house as well.

Inside, the shop is clean, mostly monochrome, with four flags pinned to the ceiling above the tattoo bench. A Russian flag and a Canadian flags are easily recognisable, but the other two don't belong to any country (they belong to a people instead). One is white and grey with a purple stripe and a black triangle, the other a striped tricolour of pink, white and blue. Some big armchairs sit against the front wall, and open sketchbooks are left on the counter to flick through.

A man sits by the tattoo chair, and rises at the tinkle of the bell as the door opens. His hair almost brushes against the ceiling. He's a little on the chubby side, almost all his skin shot through with indelible ink. Since his prom photograph on the school's website, Nikolai has had stretchers in his ears and a lip piercing. His nose is large, his cheeks are puffy, and his eyes are small.

Allen marches straight up to him and socks him in the face. "You **ass**!"

"Allen!" Oliver shrieks.

" _Kolya_?" a deep voice yells, followed by the thud of something falling over.

At the back of the shop, strings of beads hang over a door-less doorway, a flight of stairs heading up to the next floor. A man heads down them, a tall and rather thin man, in jeans and a merch hoodie for a metal band, sleeves shoved up to his elbows revealing intricately, intimately tattooed forearms. Blond hair is shoved back into a ponytail. Matvei.

Jett and Benny manage to drag Allen away from Nikolai who stands back up, gesturing helplessly to Allen. Allen struggles against them both, still yelling and swearing and threatening.

"Allen, would you calm down?" Matvei pleads, planting himself between Nikolai and Allen.

"Don't you fucking-" Allen yells, wrenching his arm from Jett's grip, "Who the fuck even are you."

The man freezes up. "Matt. I'm Matt."

"That's nice. Oi Red! Oi Red! You said you know where Chloe is!"

Nikolai continues to rub his jaw, already reddening from Allen's well-placed punch. He stares at Allen. Then Matt. Then Allen.

Benny snacks a hand to his forehead. "Holy **shit** , how did we not realise?!"

Allen lurches forwards clumsily, Matt catching him as he stumbles.

"I still haven't realised," Jett deadpans, "What are we realising?"

Matt sighs.

Allen side-eyes Matt, and pulls himself up. He looks Matt up and down. "Matt? That's short for something, isn't it?"

"Matvei," Matt says, "The paperwork says Matvei, but I was originally going to go for Mattieu."

"Paperwork?"

"Documents legalising my name change. To Matvei Vasily Braginski."

(" _Are you sure this is the name you want_?" Nikolai had asked him, asked him so many times they'd both lost count.)

(" _Absolutely_.")

"You don't sound Russian, dude."

"I'm not. I'm Canadian," Matt points up to the Canadian flag.

"So what the fuck?"

Matt snorts. Nikolai sighs. Oliver bounces on his feet.

"I was going to have a more Canadian name, but then I got married. I was going to be Mattieu."

(The Orthodox priests had glared at the pair but couldn't argue with them. In matching suits, Nikolai and Matvei Braginski had screamed a silent fuck you to the Russian president as they had kissed before the priest, Nikolai's sisters squealing in delight.)

"Yeah, you said that," Allen says, staring at Matt.

"Mattieu William Jones."

(Sister Magdalena seemed to never tire of asking Matt "What would your father say if he saw you like this? If he saw what you are doing to his little princess?")

(Matt would respond; "I like to think he loved me as I love our Lord. Enough to accept me as I am, not as he wants to believe I am.")

(Sister Magdalena would then usually put him in detention. On the chart, the regular conversation would fall under 'back talking' 'rudeness' 'blasphemy' 'disrespect for authority' 'being smart' and 'behaving in an unladylike manner'.)

Jett finally realises, and Benny has to clap his hand over Jett's mouth before he ruins the moment.

Allen nods, still staring at Matt. "And… just for the sake of curiosity… if you don't mind me asking…"

"I don't mind, Al," Matt says.

"What was your name when you got married?"

"Chloe. Chloe Matilda Jones."

"Chloe…"

"Yep." Matt swings his arms awkwardly. "Hey, bro."

Silence. Allen stares dumbly at Matt. Oliver pads across the room, shiny dress shoes echoing footsteps around the tight, heavy room, and he gently folds his hands around Allen's arm. Nikolai stares at the pair, hands dropped and lower body tensed, coiled and ready to spring forwards between Matt and Allen.

"You're… taller than I expected," Allen says at last.

"Really?" Matt responds, too quickly, "I was always taller than you."

"Yeah, well, I thought I'd had some pretty good growth spurts on me. I thought I'd be taller than you now."

"You're not though. Testosterone does that."

"I don't even know what that is. I skipped most of my chemistry."

"We didn't even have chemistry lessons. Father Novak said it was witchcraft."

Allen snorts. "Really?"

"Yep," Matt grins, William's dimples deep in his freckled cheeks.

Allen laughs, pulling away from Oliver to drag Matt into a strong hug. Matt freezes, awkwardly hugging Allen back before squeezing him tightly, the brothers refusing to let go for almost a full minute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The flags on Nikolai's ceiling are;  
> Russian  
> Canadian  
> Demisexual (white and grey with a purple stripe and a black triangle)  
> Transgender (striped tricolour of pink, white and blue)
> 
> Matvei is a Russian diminutive of Matthew, Vasily is a rough diminutive of William. I know Russian middle names don't work like that and it should be Vasilyevich or something similar, but Matt and Nikolai were aiming to piss people off so didn't use the proper patronymic.  
> The pair got married in 2013 shortly after a federal law was passed in Russia (while the pair and Nikolai's 'sisters' were visiting Nikolai's family) criminalising the distribution of LGBT+ materials, including eductional and support material. Obviously the law is fancier than that, but that's what it essentially is, let's not dick it about here. Since then, there has been a rise of violence, hate crime and propaganda against members of the LGBT+ community in Russia, especially human rights advocates. The attackers are usually protected by Russian laws.
> 
> Random headcannons  
> Nikolai is demisexual, more on that next chapter.  
> Matt fluently speaks Russian and several other languages, more on that next chapter.  
> Matt is two inches taller than Allen.  
> Nikolai is damned protective of Matt and his 'sisters', more of that in the next few chapters.  
> Allen doesn't handle stress and nerves well.  
> Nikolai did Matt's tattoos, but obviously not all of his own or any of his piercings.   
> Nikolai also pierced Matt's ears and tongue, but the ears have since healed. Matt still wears a tongue bar.
> 
> Sorry about the wait, kept forgetting to update because I'm an idiot. Next chapter; Matt talks about his school life  
> I have reminders in my phone calender to update this on a Saturday evening


	9. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters:  
> Matvei Braginski (Matt) /2p!Canada  
> Nikolai Braginski (Kolya/Red) /2p!Russia  
> Oliver Kirkland /2p!England  
> Allen Jones /2p!America  
> Jet Cook /Australia  
> Benny Schmidt /Luxembourg  
> Ekaterina Braginskya (Katya) /2p!Ukraine  
> Natasha Arlovskaya /2p!Belarus  
> Lily Zwingli /2p!Liechtenstein
> 
> Text in italics signifies it is said in Russian
> 
> Quick warning; Matt and Nikolai talk about their experience at the religious school, and are both fairly dismissive of it. So warning for anti-religious/anti-Christian duscussion, and a friendly reminder that opinions of the characters do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the writer.  
> Also, some mentions of gore.

Matt and Nikolai live in a flat above the tattoo shop. It's little more than a large single room, a bathroom in a small room at the top of the stairs. A kitchenette is in the corner, covered in sweet packets and empty bottles of caffeine and alcohol. The bed is at the far end, duvet shoved back and the screen barrelled over. A settee leans against the wall, coffee table in front of it covered in empty take-away boxes, more wrappers and bottles, and books. Books are strewn everywhere, not sketchbooks like in the tattoo shop but language dictionaries, and novels and scripts in foreign text covered in writing in purple pens, some random doodles (sunflowers and maple leaves and bear faces and snowflakes) by both Matt and Nikolai in the edges of the pages. A laptop sits on the floor, keyboard so worn the letters are no longer visible.

"I should get you a drink," Matt mumbles, "But I think we've only got Smirnoff."

"Tea, Matvei," Nikolai says plainly.

"Oh, yeah. Tea."

"I'll give you a hand, love," Oliver chirps, half-skipping as he follows Nikolai to the kitchenette, "I've already made drinks for everyone. Except you and Matt, of course."

(Oliver only reaches Nikolai's elbow.)

"Who are you two?" Matt asks suddenly. In the shock of meeting his brother for the first time in ten years, Matt hadn't even noticed Jett and Benny.

"I'm Jett, this is Benny," Jett introduces. Matt just stares at him.

"We moved into your old home in Canada," Benny finishes, "There were pictures of you everywhere. We wanted to find out more."

"We didn't want you to turn out to be dead and start haunting us," Jett reiterates.

Matt snorts in laughter. "You watch too many horror movies."

"You can say nothing about too many horror movies," Nikolai says plainly, and Matt laughs.

"Horror junkie?" Allen asks.

"So much so I made it my job," Matt says, gesturing to a couple of scripts by the laptops, "I'm a translator. Specialise in translating horror films."

"That is so cool!" Jett says with a grin.

"We need more chairs," Matt says, looking around the flat as if chairs are going to materialise out of nowhere.

" _Grab the folding chairs from under the bed_ ," Nikolai says.

" _We've only got two_."

" _Which makes four. We'll figure something out from there, calm down._ "

Matt takes a deep breath, heading over to the bed. He shoves the screen out of the way, crouches down, and pulls two folding chairs out. "We keep these for when Kolya- Nikolai's sisters come around."

"You got sisters, Red?" Allen asks in surprise.

"They're not my sisters. They're cousins, but they're closer family to me," Nikolai says, helping Oliver carry the mugs across to the coffee table, "Family outcasts stick together."

(Katya greeted Nikolai when he first arrived in America with a kiss to each cheek. And Natasha too. And Matt, when he first arrived on the Braginski doorstep, five days before his Catholic Christmas, sobbing and crying that he had nowhere else to go.)

(The rain had soaked through his suitcase, and Natasha was much smaller than Matt. Katya bundled Matt up in Nikolai's clothes instead. They were a little big for him, but suited him.)

"We need to look into more chairs," Matt says, "We need to get one for Lily at least."

"We will, Matvei, calm down."

Benny takes one of the chairs off Matt, and Matt sends him a grateful smile.

"Come sit on the floor with me, Matt," Allen says as Matt puts the unfolded chair down, "Pretend its reading time."

Matt huffs a laugh, sitting cross-legged on the floor next to Allen. Jett sits in the chair Matt just unfolded, Benny in the other. Nikolai sits by Matt, using him a leg rest and giggling when Matt shoves him off.

"So, darlings," Oliver chirps, passing drinks around to their drinkers, "I'm Oliver, and I'm Allen's fiancé; we're in-laws!"

Matt stares at Allen. "You're **engaged**!"

"You're married!" Allen retorts.

"That was spur of the moment!"

"How is marriage spur of the moment?!"

"Because fuck Putin!"

(" _He can't just outlaw something just like_ _ **that**_ **,** _can he?"_ Matt has asked in shock."

(" _Welcome to Russia_ ," Katya spat.)

(Natasha had just fiddled with the bracelet Lily had bought her. She'd always wanted to marry in her homeland.)

"Okay, can't argue with that."

Nikolai chuckles, and Oliver sighs.

"Apart from your sudden wedding, whatever," Allen says, laughing as he speaks, "You and Red! School trouble makers, huh?"

"Not our fault none of the Fathers and Sisters have read the fucking Bible," Nikolai grunts. Oliver gasps in shock.

"You owe Oliver a dollar," Allen says, smirking.

" **Two** dollars," Oliver corrects, "Another dollar for blatant blasphemy."

"What?" Nikolai asks shortly.

"He's against swearing," Allen says, "I lose about a third of my wages to that jar."

"Jesus!" Matt comments. Oliver gasps, and Matt chokes, " **Seriously**?"

"Just don't get on his bad side. He's scary when he wants to be."

("Oh do stop crying, poppet. I can't understand a word you're telling me when you're crying like a little bitch.")

Matt glances at Oliver. Oliver sits there on the settee, sipping milky, sugary tea from a charity Christmas mug, floral shirt and muted pastel jeans pressed, socks matched and shoes shined. He almost looks like a fairy lost his wings and became human. He surely couldn't be **scary** if he tried.

("It's only a broken kneecap. You weren't using it. Are you planning on using the other? Might want to tell me about Mister Pink's hideout then, hm?")

Matt pulls himself up and grabs a dish of money from by the door, originally intended for tipping the delivery folk when they arrive with take-away. He pads back to the table, passing Oliver two dollars. " _Be nice to my family_ ," he hisses to Nikolai, who just rolls his eyes.

"We so much as **blinked** in the wrong direction and the Sisters we marking us down for detention," Matt says in English, "Nikolai was anti-American, regularly questioning the Bible and saying no-no things like "That scripture's out of context". I kept cutting my hair off and sneaking into the boys' clubs instead of the girls' ones."

"The fuck kind of a school has gendered clubs?" Jett comments. Oliver gasps. Jett passes a dollar across.

"A religious one," Matt says plainly. "We were in detention most days. By the end of my first semester, Father O'Murdach just gave up on us and left us to sit in a room for an hour after class. Didn't even care if we did our lines or not."

"Sounds like a waste of time," Allen says.

"It was," Nikolai says.

"You never did your lines properly anyway," Matt says, shoving Nikolai's leg, "What was the one that got you suspended? You changed 'I will not argue back' to… 'I will not…' uh..."

"'I will not remind Sister Sholokhov or Father Ionesco of what the Bible actually fucking says'."

("This is inappropriate, Braginski!")

("So is Sister Sholokhov's teaching of the gospel of Matthew and Luke. She is trying to suggest that Jesus would have been a Republican. He was a homeless black man who was best friends with teenagers and a prostitute. He would never be a fucking Republican.")

("We have a separation of religion and politics in this country, Braginski.")

("Really? So why does Father Edman keep protesting at the Planned Parenthood that Plan B is the devil's work?")

("He is spreading the word of our Lord.")

("I don't think I've read that part of the Bible? Where is it? Bullshit 69:69?")

("You've earned yourself a day's suspension.")

Oliver gasps. Matt passes him another dollar. Nikolai laughs.

"I got a day away from the idiots," he says, "I don't see how that's a punishment."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random headcannons;  
> Oliver is small (5'5/165cm) and Nikolai is tall (6'7/201cm). As an FYI, Matt and Lutz are both 6'0/183cm, Allen is 5'10/178cm.  
> Matt doesn't speak any Chinese. That's an Auf Weidersehen Sweetheart reference. You're welcome.  
> Katya and Natasha are Nikolai's cousins several times removed. There had been talk of arranging a marriage between Nikolai and Natasha which may have been pushed through if the pair hadn't been outcast for homosexuality.  
> William (Matt and Allen's dad) would read to them on an evening, and they would sit on the floor to listen. Aldrich tried to continue the tradition on Sarah's request, but Matt would glare at Aldrich, Allen would hide behind Matt, and Lutz was too restless and fidgety to listen. Aldrich gave up.  
> Lily was on Matt's mixed-gender hockey team at the local grounds (more on that next chapter) and met Natasha after Matt's first match. They started dating a month later, and are now engaged (more on that nearer the end of the fic).  
> Katya is about twelve years older than Nikolai, and Natasha is a year younger than him.  
> Katya was outcast for being promiscuous, and getting pregnant underage (age 15, Russian age of consent is 16). She was forced to have an abortion (legal up to 12 weeks in Russia) and then moved to America when she refused to move on from her dead daughter Anastasia.  
> Nikolai was outcast for being bad-mouthed and having violent outbursts, and for spending more time/effort on art than the 'boy subjects' like maths and science.  
> Natasha was outcast for kissing one of her female friends.  
> Natasha was tiny until she hit puberty, then grew fairly tall. She was also a late bloomer, hitting growth spurts at age 14/15.  
> Oliver used to swear, but only when 'working'. Oliver/'Cupcake' was a torturer and information broker. Hence the gore warnings.
> 
> Names of teachers come from a random name generator.
> 
> This chapter got split in two halves, so next chapter; Matt (and Nikolai) continue talking about school and early adult life


	10. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters:  
> Allen Jones /2p!America  
> Matt Braginski (Jones/Chloe) /2p!Canada  
> Nikolai Ivanovich Braginski /2p!Russia  
> Jett Cook /Australia  
> Oliver Kirkland /2p!England  
> Benny Schmidt /Luxembourg  
> Ekaterina Braginskya (Katya) /2p!Ukraine
> 
> Text in italics signify it is said in Russian
> 
> WARNINGS  
> Transphobia in flashbacks, including the t-slur, abusive gender therapy/counselling mentioned in flashbacks, and some general ignorance/lack of knowledge  
> Again, the opinions of the characters do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the writer

“And when did…” Allen gestures vaguely to Matt.

“Use words, Allen.”

“Use them carefully, Allen,” Nikolai adds in a threatening growl, and Matt pokes him in the thigh.

“When did you realise…” Allen continues to gesture up and down Matt, “This?”

(“Tranny!”)

“When did you realise you’re a transsexual?” Jett finishes, and the entire group freezes into silence.

(“You can’t go punching other students in the face for no reason, Jones.”)

(“I had a reason.”)

(“Pointing out your sins is not a reason.”)

(“I am not a sin!”)

Nikolai rises, and Matt grabs his knee quickly, Nikolai stopping half-stood, glaring Jett down.

(“You can’t go hitting people, kid,” the counsellor said as empathetically as she could, “You have to explain things to them politely.”)

(“It’s hard to be polite when they’re calling me names.”)

(“So what if they’re calling you names? Its playground bullying, Chloe- can I call you Chloe?”)

(“I prefer Matt. And I don’t like them calling me a tranny!”)

(“We don’t use language like that. Just ignore them.”)

(“Tell **them** not to use language like that!”)

(“Who are ‘them’?”)

(“The people calling me a tranny- you’re not even listening to me!”)

(“Don’t go losing your temper, you’re not helping yourself.”)

(“You’re not helping me either!”)

(“Don’t sound so ungrateful, Chloe.”)

 “It’s not a sexuality,” Matt says dully, clearly having given this talk before, “So we don’t say ‘transsexual’. ‘Transgender’ is okay. ‘Transmale’ is better. ‘Male’ is best. They’re also adjectives, not nouns. So don’t put a pronoun in front of them.”

“Sorry,” Jett says quickly, “I didn’t know the words.”

“Clearly,” Nikolai sits back down, still glaring at Jett. “You owe Oliver two dollars now.”

Matt tuts, but smiles. “We snuck into a lecture at the ‘atheist college’. Well no, it was a public talk, but we’d been warned by the Fathers not to go.”

(“They promote promiscuity, homosexuality and blatant sin. They spit in the face of our Lord and deny him. There is only place these people will go, and I bade each and every one of you not to be dragged down with them.”)

(Matt and Nikolai would be sat on the front row, dubbed ‘the naughty step’. The Fathers would often glare at the pair as they spoke in mass, prayer, or damnation of the inferior. The pair would simply glare back.)

“So we went.”

Allen snorts in laughter. Jett passes the two dollars to Oliver.

“It was this **huge** lecture on sex and gender,” Matt continues, “And sexualities and all these identities and they gave out these cards covered in websites and blogs and local groups and it was so **weird**. We got back to the dorms and looked through some of the websites online.

“One of them was a blog run by a transman. And I remember reading the posts and it was like someone had taken my mind and put it online. I knew exactly what he meant and how he felt and I’d never met this guy but I understood him. I can’t really explain it to people who haven’t experienced it, but it was just **relief**. Someone else grew up confused and uncomfortable, and that shouldn’t be comforting but it is because it’s not just me.”

(“ _Of course it’s wouldn’t just be you_ ,” Nikolai had said flippantly, “ _There are six billion people in the world- you can’t be the only one_.”)

(“ _Now is not the time for your fucking nihilism_ ,” Matt threw a pillow at him, and Nikolai realised Matt was trying not to cry.)

“I already went by Matt, it’s what the coach and most of the boys already called me. None of our teachers did, though. I got detentions for refusing to answer to Chloe, and eventually got thrown off the hockey team and cadets when I couldn’t pass for a boy anymore. But I was old enough to join the mixed hockey team at the Pleasure Grounds. I saved up for a binder, and Nikolai let me wear his old clothes when we weren’t in uniform. Some of the guys I’d been in clubs with gave me clothes too, but after the Fathers lectured us all on gender roles and Adam and Eve and some other bulls- they stopped.”

Allen giggles at the save.

“We graduated from the boarding school,” Matt continues, “I think they were glad to be rid of us, really.”

“I was glad to rid of them,” Nikolai grunts.

“I got a scholarship to the college doing modern linguistics, worked in bars to keep myself up. Nikolai got an apprenticeship at a tattoo shop. I graduated, we took a holiday to Russia so Nikolai’s parents could meet their unofficially adopted child and try to take Nikolai back in. It failed, and we ending up getting married to spite the Russian President.”

(“ _This is a pretty unorthodox reason to get married_ ,” Matt said as Katya had straightened his tie.)

(“ _We’ve never been exactly orthodox, though_ ,” Nikolai replied smartly. Matt laughed.)

“My parents were not amused,” Nikolai says, half-laughing.

(“ _Nikolai Ivanovich Braginski, you have shamed us for the last time!_ ”)

“So we moved back to America,” Matt continues, “Bought the first decent shop we came across and opened this place. And that’s us. The end. Yeah.”

Matt gives an awkward jazz hands, and Nikolai raises an amused eyebrow. Ten years condensed into two minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *awkward flail*  
> Obviously, some stuff Matt has glossed over, such as his counselling but he doesn't like to talk about that  
> The LGBT+ community is flippin' huge, which is a little bit daunting. And unfortunately it isn't discussed enough in mainstream media for the general public to know about the LGBT+ community, how to talk about LGBT+ subjects (I.e. Matt's talk), or even how to approach the LGBT+ community outside of Pride events and gay bars.  
> Luckily the LGBT+ community has gained more power in recent years, and have resources all over the place. The university I go to often has lectures and talks organised by the LGBT+ society which anyone and everyone is welcome to attend, often with leaflets Matt and Nikolai mentioned. While they wouldn't be as info-packed as the one Matt and Nikolai mentioned, as that's just way too much information to process, they tend to be useful and eye-opening.  
> There are also a lot of resources online, and many of these websites have 'escape' buttons, which you can click and the website re-routes to Google. Clicking the 'back' button on your browser takes you back to the page you'd been on. Obviously, if you're in a position where you'd need a feature like that, please stay safe; remember to delete your browser history, and try to avoid using a computer you would share with someone who would confront you on your search history.
> 
> Random headcannons:  
> Yes, Matt has given the "don't say 'a trans'" talk a few times. He has to give it less often at this point in his life, as he passes as male.  
> Jett is very blunt and sometimes a little careless in what he says. He meant no offence towards Matt, he we was just uneducated on the right language to use, as a lot of people are. However, he's a little bit scared of Nikolai. And Allen.  
> Nikolai refers to benches as 'the naughty step' in English. It's easier for him to pronounce, and makes Matt laugh. Confuses his 'sisters' though.  
> Nikolai's family paid for Katya, Nikolai, Natasha (2p!Belarus) to go back to Russia to see them. When they found out that Katya had 'adopted' Matt, they begrudgingly also paid for Matt to go with them. The Braginskis have only known Matt as 'Matvei Vasily', and never figured out how Nikolai managed to marry a man in Russia. And they possibly never will.
> 
> Forgot to actually mention Benny in this chapter, oops. He's in the character list anyway because he IS still there, just listening quietly.
> 
> Matt talking about the blog is loosely based on my own experience of discovering the asexual community. Relief, then a little guilt at that relief, but generally happy that it's not just me.  
> The counsellor is based on mine and some friends' experience of counselling, but none of us (as far as I know) have faced gender therapy/counselling. In general, my experience and experiences I've heard about haven't been great. Which isn't to say that counsellors/therapists in general are terrible, this is just what I have experienced/heard.
> 
> "But if Matt (and kinda Nikolai too) were abandoned by their families, who paid for them to stay at the school?!" I hear you cry (or not, idk). More on it later, no worries.
> 
> Next chapter; back in Canada, Romeo pays a visit with Allen and Nikolai's ex-boss 'Romano'  
> The end notes weren't meant to get this long I swear.


	11. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters;  
> Nikolai Braginski /2p!Russia  
> Matt Braginski /2p!Canada  
> Allen Jones /2p!America  
> William Jones (Allen and Matt's Dad)  
> Oliver Kirkland (Cupcake) /2p!England  
> Jett Cook /Australia  
> Aldrich Beilschmidt /2p!Germania  
> Lutz Beilschmidt /2p!Germany  
> Benny Scmidt /Luxembourg  
> Lovino Vargas (Boss Romano/Lovi) /Romano  
> Romeo Vargas (Nonno) /Ancient Rome
> 
> Text in italics signify it is said in Russian

Nikolai holds one of the framed photographs up next to Matt's face. " _Long hair looks really weird on you_."

" _Only because you've never seen me with long hair before._ "

" _The ribbons are cute, though_."

" _You wouldn't say that if you'd had to wear them_."

"Vodka," Allen cuts into the conversation, and Matt smacks a hand to his forehead. "What? That's all the Russian I know."

"You don't even pronounce it right, Al," Matt says.

"How can do you mispronounce **vodka**?!"

"Водки."

"Did you just call me a wanker?"

"No, Allen."

Allen peers at him, and shrugs. "Jett's about to open Dad's shed. You remember what he kept in the shed, right?"

"No, Allen, I'm a complete fucking idiot."

"Wanna play Clean 'Em?"

"You know Dad only made that game up so he wouldn't have to clean the guns himself, right?"

"You're just worried I'll kick your ass at it," Allen spits his tongue out.

"No you won't."

"I can't if you don't play."

"Fine!" Matt puts the photograph of William and baby Allen down, "Just don't cry when I show you up in front of your precious cupcake."

"That is fighting talk!"

"No, just a prediction," Matt says smartly, getting up.

The pair race to the shed, shoving and tripping each other, laughing like children. Nikolai puts Matt's picture back on the pile, getting up and following after them. (He has to duck through the doorways.)

Jett is already at the shed, waiting on Allen's command with a strong pair of wire cutters for the padlock, too rusted for a key now. The window on the door has had a portion of the dust wiped away by hand, Allen having peered through to check for the guns. Aldrich had likes guns almost as much as William had, but never shot them. Aldrich kept guns more for aesthetic. (Both Matt and Allen had thought keeping guns just to look at them is a ridiculous idea. Lutz, while he's never said it in front of his Vatti, had agreed with them.)

The old padlock breaks easily, Matt almost tearing the shed off its creaking hinges as he throws it open. None of William's guns have been removed, the shed seeming to almost be a shrine in his memory. Several pictures have been placed in any space available between the guns and tools, and about half a dozen crates are stacked against the back wall.

Matt and Allen take down the guns, lining them up in two rows over the lawn. Nikolai and Benny sit down on the patio, watching the pair run backwards and forwards. Oliver titters about in the kitchen, baking a cake. (Odd as his behaviour is, he cleans up after himself and gives everyone free cake. Jett and Benny just leave the strange little man to it.)

Guns lined up, eight rifles each, Matt and Allen sit in the grass side by side, a line of weapons stretched out in front of them. The side eye each other.

"On 'go', yeah?" Allen says, and Matt nods. "Three… Two… One-go!"

Allen snatches up the gun in front of him, unclipping the barrel and flicking it open almost lazily. Matt is barely a split second behind him, gentler with the guns yet more meticulous. Allen pulls the guns apart quickly, throwing the pieces onto the grass and reassembling them into some sort of order, while Matt takes the pieces apart one at a time and lays the pieces down.

Matt puts his last rifle down, hops over it and turns around to sit facing the line of cleaned, disassembled rifles. He puts one hand in the air and grins toothily. "Done!"

Allen stops, puts the rifle down across his lap, and looks Matt dead in the eye, "Bitch."

"Swear jar!" Nikolai shouts. In the kitchen, Oliver gasps.

"You can pay Oliver after you've put the rifles back away," Matt says smartly, brushing grass off his jeans.

Allen shuts and re-latches the rifle with a huff. "I was going easy on you anyway, since I have more gun experience."

"I know you do, Silver Bullet."

"Benny? Love, someone just knocked at your door," Oliver calls from the kitchen.

"They have? Huh. Excuse me," Benny gets up, heading into the house. Nikolai barely acknowledges him.

Allen carried the reassembled rifles back to the shed, one at a time. Jett sits on the shed floor, looking through the crates. Mostly clothes, some books, and a few knick-knacks.

"Do you think you and Matt are going to keep any of this stuff?" Jett asks Allen as he brings the third rifle back in.

"I don't know," Allen answers, "We moved this stuff out the house so long ago I can barely remember what we kept."

"Have a good look through before you head back home. We'll be throwing a good lot of it out if you don't."

Oliver slams into the door, hands flapping in panic.

"Babe? Babe, what's wrong?"

"Romano," Oliver gasps, "Romano's here."

"Who?" Jett asks.

Allen storms out the shed, rifle taken down and swinging defensively from his hand, Oliver barely a step behind him. Jett closes the crate, and follows them.

Nikolai has stepped off the patio, barrel of a long rifle in his hand as he stands firm, keeping Matt behind him. Matt leans around him, talking in fast Russian, trying to see the newcomer.

Romeo stands there with a sour-faced man, his grandson judging by the similar curly locks and handsome face. He's quite slim, with a well-fitting tailored suit and designer shoes.

"Would someone tell me what the fuck's going on here?" Jett demands.

Romeo laughs, "Lovi, what have you been up to?"

'Lovi' rolls his eyes. "Just business, Nonno."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random headcannons;  
> The Brooklyn Eagles (the mafia family that Allen Oliver and Nikolai were in, and Lovino and Romeo are still connected to (spoilers)) have a direct rival family called the Flaming Knives, lead by Lorenzo Vespa (2p!Veneziano) and based in a city in Georgia. A little more on that later.  
> The Flaming Knives are not an Italian mafia family (despite being currently lead by an Italian). They're a German mafia family in origin.  
> Nikolai, when threatened, will hit the attacker with the first thing he has to hand. More on that later.  
> Allen still refers to Oliver as 'Cupcake', which was his nickname in the mafia. Oliver calls Allen 'my eagle' or 'Silver Eagle', also referencing them meeting in their mafia days, or calls him 'Ali-baby'. Nikolai calls Matt 'sunflower'. Matt doesn't really have a nickname for Nikolai, aside from 'asshole'.  
> Nikolai talked Matt out of researching too much into the Brooklyn Eagles. Matt knows that Allen committed gun crimes, but not about any murders. He knows Nikolai had been the tattoo artist, and had known at the time, but nothing more. (Is there more on Nikolai's mafia days? Yep.)
> 
> I will never stop over-emphasising Nikolai's height. Fight me.
> 
> Next chapter; some questions answered, and another blast from Matt and Allen's past.


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters:  
> Matvei Braginski (Matt/sunflower) //2p!Canada  
> Lovino Vargas (Lovi/Boss Romano/this guy) //Romano  
> Nikolai Braginski (Red) //2p!Russia  
> Allen Jones (Ali-baby) //2p!America  
> Oliver Kirkland //2p!England  
> Romeo Vargas (Nonno) //Ancient Rome  
> Jett Cook //Australia  
> Benny Scmidt //Luxembourg  
> Member of the Flaming Knives
> 
> Quick note; italics signify it is said Russian

“ _I’m guessing you know this guy_ ,” Matt says plainly.

“ _Unfortunately_ ,” Nikolai responds quickly.

“ _Who is he_?”

“ _Not now, sunflower. I’ll tell you later_.”

Matt sighs heavily. “Hey! You!”

Nikolai, Allen and Oliver freeze.

“Me?” ‘Lovi’ points to himself, amused.

“Yeah, you. Who the fuck are you?”

“Lovino Vargas,” Lovino steps down off the patio, “’Lovi’ to family, ‘Boss Romano’ to the people who work for me.”

(“Why ‘Romano’?”)

(“Because fuck you. That’s why.”)

“Oh. You’re that guy.”

Lovino laughs. “Yeah, that guy. Just… I’m not here to hurt anyone, okay? I got no weapons, I got no grudges, just calm down.”

“And we got no reason to trust you!” Allen retorts.

“And you got no reason not to!” Lovino says calmly

“You mean aside from the fact you’re in the mafia?” Matt says.

“You trust Nikolai,” Romeo interrupts, “You trust Allen. You always trusted me.”

“ _What the fuck_ ,” Nikolai mutters.

Allen drops his rifle, sprinting across the grass to barrel into Romeo, hugging him tightly. Romeo grunts, but grins, patting Allen’s head, mumbling in Italian. Oliver grabs the rifle, holding it in a similar heavy-handed, wide-stance way to Allen (Allen had taught him as best he could, private and hands-on). Matt steps around Nikolai, but Nikolai grabs his arm as he passes.

“ _What’s the matter with you_?” Matt hisses, pulling his arm away, “ _It’s Romeo- I told you about Romeo! He’s practically my grandfather!_ ”

“ _I’ve never met him before. How did he know my name?_ ”

Matt stops. Romeo holds an arm out to him, and Allen makes grabby hands at him. Matt doesn’t move, and Romeo sighs.

“Matvei, a lot has happened in the last ten years,” Romeo says, “But I never stopped caring about you both. Ever.”

“Were you stalking us?” Matt asks. Allen pulls away from Romeo in alarm. Romeo sighs again, and Lovino clicks his tongue.

“Si, Nonno was keeping tabs on you both. Got you,” Lovino points to Allen, “Working under me. Yeah, I was a dick to you, but you gotta understand that I can’t have favourites, and I was a little fucked off about some random kid being as important to my Nonno as me, his fucking next-in-line. You get me?”

“I fucking killed people!” Allen yells.

 “Don’t talk to me like that! Only reason I let you and Red here leave with your lives was Nonno’s intervention,” Lovino says. Romeo sends him a glare.

“The Mafia has a bad habit of enslaving people,” Romeo says. (Without his smile, his face looks thinner, harder.)

“You’re fucking telling me, Nonno,” Lovino spits.

“A couple of the sisters at Prinyatiye owed me favours. Paid for a couple of lackey’s kids to go to the college, pay for people’s tattoos now and then. You,” Romeo points at Nikolai, laughing (and his brightness returns), “Are so untalkative. I send my best sweet talkers, and they bring me nothing.”

“Wait-wait-wait,” Jett cuts in, “Why are there so many Mafia people on my property?”

Romeo laughs. “I promise it won’t happen too often.”

“There’s like…” Jett does a headcount, “Five of you. And three of us not in the Mafia. Wait- you definitely weren’t in the Mafia, right?” he stares at Benny.

“Totally. I was the German Mafia’s favourite twink,” Benny rolls his eyes.

Lovino grimaces. “Don’t even joke about that.”

“So what’s the great Boss Romano doing so far north?” Allen asks casually.

Jett is assembling smashed up picture frames and furniture into a dug-out pit. Benny and Oliver have carried blankets and towels from the house to sit on, and now sit side-by-side, arranging sausages (both meat and vegan) and sliced vegetables onto skewers. (Lovino keeps an eye on Oliver handling the metal spikes). Allen sits between Oliver and Lovino, then Romeo, then Matt asleep on Nikolai’s shoulder. Romeo chatters to Nikolai about a new books club being held in the library, and all its pensioner hot gossip. Nikolai is only half-pretending to listen.

As Allen and Lovino talk, it’s obvious that the pair get along in some way. Allen talks easily, brushing off Lovino’s brash insults and language. Oliver conveniently turns a deaf ear to the pair.

“I’m allowed to visit my grandfather,” Lovino says sharply.

“Yeah, but why now?” Allen asks, “You never came up when were kids. You’re only like, five years older than me.”

Lovino snorts. “I’m ten years older than you.”

“For real?”

“For real.”

“Shit. You look good for, what, thirty-four?”

“Thirty-six.”

“Shit! Damn, you could be one fuck of a cougar!”

Lovino rolls his eyes. “Cougars are women.”

“Oh yeah? What do you call guy-cougars then?”

“Alright, alright, touché.”

Allen laughs. Jett gives a cheer, scrambling out of the pit as it ignites. Nikolai and Romeo both holler, waking Matt up sharply.

“For serious, though,” Allen says quietly.

Lovino sighs. “Someone from the FK is following me. Tailing me everywhere, fucking persistent, fucking indestructible. Killed three lackeys in a week because I was sending them to kill whoever this fucker is.”

“And definitely from the FK?” Allen whispers.

“If the knives in the lackeys’ heads and the fires wherever I’ve been are anything to go on, definitely FK.”

“So you’re in hiding? Lying low?”

Lovino nods.

“What if they followed you up here?”

“They can’t. Four outfit changes, six vehicle changes and two decoys. No way have they followed me through that bullshit.”

“If they’re as persistent as you say they are, they could have!”

“Why do you care?!” Lovino snaps, and Romeo jumps, “They’re after me, not you!”

“Because fuck, Boss! I got out!”

“I let you out!”

“Whatever! It’s behind me, and I’m not letting you drag me back in! Or Oliver! And not Matt. Or even Red over there! Just- keep your mafia shit away from my family!”

“Ali-baby, calm down!” Oliver croons, leaning on him. Allen hugs Oliver, still glaring at Lovino.

And on the driveway, a man steps off his motorbike, leaving his helmet and jacket strewn over the seat. He pulls a few holsters from his bag, strapping a knife to each thigh and a forearm, and checking the guns under his arms are loaded. A small tin can, about the size of a can of pepper spray, sits next to each gun, full of strong flammable liquids. Long matches sit next to each knife, three either side of the knife. An extra lighter sits in his jeans pockets, and a spare switchblade is hidden in his boot.

He’s proud to carry the tradition of the Flaming Knives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Abrupt chapter ending is abrupt.  
> Flaming Knives member was left out of the character list on purpose, but you can probably guess who it is. You'll find out next chapter anyway.
> 
> Random headcannons:  
> Romeo, as mentioned, kept Matt and Nikolai in school. He would also send Katya money, either directly or by paying overdue bills, when she was struggling.  
> Romeo tried to reunite Matt and Allen a few times himself, but didn't want to just appear like "yo meet your bro" like Jett and Benny did, because he thought it would freak the pair out. Instead, he kept organising opportunities, such as language scholarships in Brooklyn and work placements near the tattoo shop, but they never worked out.
> 
> The Mafia is not good. Just throwing that out there now. It's not cool, it's not sexy, it's not Hollywood glamorous. It's actually pretty horrible.
> 
> Next chapter; another blast from Matt and Allen's past.


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters:  
> Matt Bragiski (Chloe)//2p!Canada  
> Oliver Kirkland (Cupcake)//2p!England  
> Allen Jones//2p!America  
> Lutz Bielscmidt//2p!Germany  
> Nikolai Braginski//2p!Russia  
> Lovino Vargas (Boss Romano)//Romano Italia  
> Benny Scmidt//Luxembourg  
> Romeo Vargas (Nonno)//Ancient Rome  
> (Detective) Yao Wang//China  
> Jett Cook//Australia  
> Lorenzo Armati (boss of the Flaming Knives)//2p!Veneziano  
> Sarah Jones (Mommy)
> 
> WARNINGS; transphobia, violence, blood, death

Matt skewers a chunk of green pepper onto the skewer Oliver has passed down the line. “So where did the vegan shit come from?”

“Saw a documentary, went veggie,” Allen says, “Didn’t really eat much dairy already so I just… ended up vegan.”

“That’s it?”

“What? You want me to say I saw God?”

Matt snorts. “Did you?”

“Not once in my fu-dging life. You?”

“Nope. Just a lot of Greek people.”

Allen laughs.

“What about Germans?”

The group whirls. Lutz stands, barely two feet from behind Nikolai. A holster is strapped to each thigh, guns rest by his ribs, another holster on his forearm, and a lazy smirk glinting in the flicker of the fire.

“Who the fuck invited you?!” Allen screeches.

“Lovino did,” Lutz says innocently,

“Like fuck I did!” Lovino stands, pulling a gun from under his jacket. Oliver holds up a skewer in warning, Allen grabs at his jacket behind him and pulls a gun of his own. Nikolai reaches into the fire, pulling out the leg of a table, end ignited.

“Look, it’s just business, let’s all calm down,” Lutz says.

“Yes!” Benny agrees, standing and storming around the group to stand firmly between them, “No mafia shit on my property! Drop your weapons!”

“Not until he drops his,” Lovino says.

Romeo sighs. “Benny, friend, just get out the way.”

“No. This is my property, and if you do not drop your weapons I’m calling the police.”

“You mean Detective Wang?” Romeo says plainly.

(Jett doesn’t laugh.)

“He’s paid off. He turns a blind eye to me, to Lovino, and he had the heads-up about a stalker. He’ll just hang up on you. Get out of the way.”

“What makes you think **I’m** the stalker?!” Lutz says, clutching his chest in offence, “I’m just here for a family reunion!”

“No one comes that strapped to a family reunion,” Allen says.

 “You weren’t invited to any family reunion anyway,” Matt says, pulling himself up.

Lutz gasps. “You would purposely exclude your own brother?”

“Yeah. You were an ass,” Allen says.

“I was not!”

“You ran me over with a go kart! Three times! You put me in hospital!”

“That was an accident.”

“ **Three** **times**!”

“Not that part, the hospital part.”

“What the **fuck** , Lutz?” Matt cuts in.

Lutz double-takes, staring at Matt in shock. “I thought the religious school was meant to make you into a respectable lady.”

“It failed on multiple levels.”

Allen and Nikolai both giggle.

Jett sighs, standing and joining Benny. “You,” he points to Lutz, “Get the fuck off my property.”

“What?” Lutz deadpans.

“You heard me. I own this place now, and you’re not bastard welcome. Get. The fuck. Out.”

“Or what. You heard Nonno, the police don’t give a fuck.”

Romeo stands, grabbing Benny and Jett by the arms and dragging them away. Nikolai pushes Matt in the direction Romeo heads, towards the shed to safety, but Matt doesn’t move.

“It’s two against one, you potato bastard,” Lovino says.

“Five, really,” Oliver adds.

“Two of us with guns, please shut up Cupcake.”

Lutz nods, tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek, hands raised in a mock surrender. “Alright, you’ve got me. Now what?”

“Get the fuck outta here.”

“Can’t do that. Orders from the boss you see. You know the mafia; you can’t just **not do** what the boss orders.”

“Go to your boss, tell him you were outgunned, and that Boss Romano says he’s a dry, useless cunt.”

(Oliver flinches.)

“I’m not saying something like that to my boss’s face. Not even when he’s in a good mood. All I need to do is kill you. Don’t be selfish.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Matt says.

Lutz pauses. He looks Matt up and down. “I thought you’d be more like Mommy.”

“You thought wrong.”

Nikolai’s grip on his flaming torch tightens.

“And she’s not your mom,” Allen says.

“No, but seriously, like,” Lutz holds his hands out in front of his chest, cupping non-existent breasts, “You don’t even look like a woman, what the fuck?”

Matt storms at him, Nikolai almost dropping the torch as he tries to grab him. “There’s a good fucking reason for that.”

He raises his hand, skewer tight in his closed fist. Lutz catches his wrist, seizing Matt by the shoulder and trying to push him away. Matt head-butts him square in the nose, and Lutz yells, pulling away.

Allen drops his gun, running forward and grabbing Matt by the arms, trying to pull him away. Nikolai throws the torch back into the bonfire and puts himself between Matt and Lutz, ‘accidentally’ trampling Lutz’s leg. Matt yells, swearing in a mix of Russian and English and Canadian French, both Allen and Nikolai trying to calm him down.

Lutz pulls himself up, grabbing one of the guns out of its holster. He aims for the back of Nikolai’s head, but staggers as Nikolai gets shoved backwards into him and misses, shooting uselessly into the air. Allen freezes, habitually scanning the group for injuries.

Matt breaks from his grasp, barrelling past Nikolai and slamming the side of his fist into Lutz’s throat.

The gun clatters to the ground, Lutz hand dropping to gently touch the skewer sticking out the side of his neck. He coughs, thick red blood dripping over his lips and chin as he sways.

Matt shoves him, and Lutz stumbles dazedly to the ground. Matt kneels over him, seizing the skewer and pulling it straight out. Blood spurts from the wound, veins severed, the grass gushing crimson. His arms and legs convulse in pain and breathlessness and panic.

Nikolai crouches quickly, wrapping his arms around Matt’s stomach and trying to pull him away. Matt wraps both hands around the end of the skewer and slams down, straight into Lutz’s eye.

Lutz stops moving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random headcannons;  
> Yes, Lutz is banging Lorenzo/the boss  
> Yes, Lutz purposely injured Allen a lot as they grew up
> 
> Some random info; when I first wrote this fight scene, Lutz survived with a gunshot wound to the shoulder and a skewered hand. Nikolai was uninvolved in the fight. Matt had kicked Lutz in the crotch and the face, similar to 'The Fight' that got him sent away to school in the first place.  
> I don't remember why I changed it, but I do prefer this one.
> 
> Also, the Vegan Conversation is a slight joke on myself. I headcannon that in canonverse, food shortages in the 2p!verse lead to cannibalism, and Allen was so disturbed by some of the things he saw in this time that he stopped eating meat and animal produce. Especially when it comes to canon!Oliver, it an be hard to tell exactly where (or who) this produce would have come from.  
> In human!verse, it's a lot less deep/horrifying/revealing. Just 'watched a documentary'.
> 
> Next chapter; Lutz is buried


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters:  
> Matt Braginski//2p!Canada  
> Nikolai Braginski (Red)//2p!Russia  
> Allen Jones (Silver Bullet)//2p!America  
> Lutz Bielschmidt (Potato Bastard)//2p!Germany  
> Jett Cook//Australia  
> Oliver Kirkland//2p!England  
> Lovino Vargas (Boss Romano)//Italy Romano  
> Detective Yao Wang//China  
> Benny Scmidt (B)//Luxembourg  
> Romeo Vargas (Nonno)//Ancient Rome  
> Xien Leon (Firecracker)//Hong Kong
> 
> Warnings; death, strong language

Matt collapses back into Nikolai, letting go of the skewer. Nikolai drags him away, falling back onto the lawn. Allen hollers, giving Lutz a kick.

“Oh my fucking god,” Jett deadpans.

“Now, we all need to keep level heads here,” Oliver says carefully.

“Fuck that! He’s dead!” Allen laughs. He leans down, shoving his face right up to Lutz’s, “Suck it, ya cunt!”

“There’s no need for that,” Lovino says.

“Oh my fucking god,” Jett repeats.

“There’s every fucking need!” Allen snaps, “He’s tormented me since I was eight. He ran me over with a quadbike! Three times! He shoved me down the stairs, he tried to jam my guns so they’d blow up in my face, he tried to put rat poison in my food- he’s fucked in the head!”

By now, Allen’s screaming. Oliver wraps his arms around Allen, but he barely notices. Matt and Nikolai remain sat on the grass. Matt is staring at Lutz’s unmoving body, eyes and breathing jagged, Nikolai mumbling Russian and broken English in his ear.

“Oh my fucking god,” Jett repeats.

“Just calm down,” Lovino says firmly, “Let’s just get him on the bonfire and get rid of his bike, okay? We never saw him. He never arrived.”

“I’ll call Wang, tell him to ignore anything about a motorbike,” Romeo says, “I’ll go through speed cameras and security cameras with him tomorrow.”

“You can’t just throw him in the bonfire!” Benny says quickly.

“What do you suggest we do with him, Two Eyes?” Lovino snaps.

“Hey!” Jett snaps, “Don’t speak to him like that!”

“It’s okay, Jett,” Benny says, “I don’t know, I just don’t want the remains of a dead man on my property.”

Romeo sighs. “We’ll bury him in my garden.”

Lovino groans, but nods. He sheathes his gun, and heads over to Lutz, grabbing his arm. “You fuckers come help me with this bastard.”

Romeo grabs Lutz’s other arm, and Allen shrugs Oliver off to grab Lutz’s leg. With a countdown from Romeo, they lift Lutz, his un-held leg falling, folding and dragging underneath him as they begin to half-carry, half-heave him over to the fence.

“Red! Come help you lazy idiot!” Lovino barks.

Both Matt and Nikolai jump at his voice. Matt’s gaze snaps away from where Lutz had been laid, now Romeo and Allen’s legs, and stares up at Lovino with wide, startled eyes.

“What’s going on?” he asks quickly.

“We need to bury the potato bastard,” Lovino says.

“Oh. Right.”

Matt pulls out of Nikolai’s hold, standing and grabbing Lutz’s other leg. Nikolai scrabbles out of the way as Lutz is carried to the fence.

Lovino and Matt, with Romeo’s instructions, move out of the way to lift Lutz higher, throwing him lazily over the fence.

“Oh my fucking god,” Jett mumbles.

Allen climbs straight over the fence after Lutz’s body, almost landing straight on top of his stepbrother. Matt climbs after him, further down. Oliver, Lovino and Romeo walk around the fence, Romeo pulling his phone out to call Officer Wang.

Nikolai stands, heading to the garage and grabbing the shovels and spades he finds.

“Where are you going with them?” Benny demands, stepping in front of Nikolai as he heads through the garden.

“To bury Lutz,” Nikolai says plainly.

“I’d rather you didn’t use my tools for that.”

“The faster he is buried, the faster this shit is dealt with.”

“Is it? A man just fucking died in my garden!”

Nikolai stares down at him, and sighs. He drops the tools, letting them fall over the grass and storming past Benny. Jett shoots the middle finger after him.

Romeo hands out his own spades, setting Allen, Matt and Nikolai on digging up a section of his garden. Lovino and Oliver head out of town, looking for flowers to plant in place of the dug-up lawn (even if Officer Wang is paid off, randomly dug over patches of garden still look suspicious).

Benny collapses down by the bonfire, shaking. Jett sits next to him, tucking an arm around Benny’s shoulders.

“How the fuck did we end up here?” Benny whispers.

“By plane, B,” Jett deadpans.

“You know what I mean!” Benny snaps, and Jett pulls away from him slightly, “We’ve just had six mafia members in our garden, and now one of them is fucking **dead**!”

“I don’t… we wanted to give the scrapbook back.”

Benny sighs, staring into the bonfire. “We should have just burnt it.”

“Don’t say that! Look; we reunited Matt and Allen, that’s something!”

“And then Lutz turned up. And fucking **died**!”

“Yes, but that wasn’t our fault. And think- if Matt hadn’t been here, what might have happened to Lovino? And Romeo? And maybe to us, we don’t know what Lutz might do to witnesses!”

“We don’t know that! We could have avoided all this!”

“We couldn’t have known,” Jett leans on Benny’s shoulder, “And we’d have felt like shit if we’d just burnt it without even trying.”

Benny sighs, shuddering.

“B? Are you okay?”

Benny drops his head, sobbing. Jett hugs him tight, and Benny curls into him, crying into Jett’s shirt.

Allen straightens up, the hole knee deep. “You planning on helping at any time, Nonno?”

“I’m old, dear,” Romeo says plainly, “My back can’t handle heavy lifting anymore!”

“You’re not supposed to do heavy lifting either, Matvei,” Nikolai says, throwing dirt into the pile building next to the hole.

“What?” Allen asks quickly.

“I was told to take it easy for six weeks, three years ago,” Matt says plainly, “Nikolai still uses it as an excuse to not get off me when we need to get up.”

“Aw, is Red cuddly?” Allen teases.

“I tend to say lazy, but yeah,” Matt says, laughing. Nikolai glares at him, nudging him with his spade. “Well you are!”

“There’s no point getting up if there’s nothing to actually be done,” Nikolai says plainly.

“We both work freelance, there’s always something to be done,” Matt retorts, throwing a clump of mud onto the pile.

“A little less conversation, a little more digging please,” Romeo snaps.

“Who made you our boss? You’re not even paying us!” Matt says.

“You killed him.”

“Oh shit. I killed him.”

Allen pauses, putting a hand on Matt’s shoulder. “The first one’s always the hardest, bro.”

“I’m not planning on killing more people!”

“Probably a good idea.”

“Probably?!”

“A little less conversation!” Romeo cuts in.

“Alright, Elvis,” Allen mumbles.

Oliver picked primroses. Lovino just paid. He’s not sure what Allen sees in ‘Cupcake’, but Lovino’s seen the remains of the people he’d sent to Oliver, so he just doesn’t question the bizarre.

(“How the fuck can one person bleed that much?”)

(“Easily if you’re experienced in making people bleed.” Cupcake smiles sweetly, wiping the knife clean with a cloth. Firecracker looks like he’s about to vomit. Silver Bullet just grins. Boss Romano should have been worried by Silver’s grins at Cupcake’s work.)

(For now, Lovino convinces himself that Allen was grinning at Oliver.)

Oliver helps direct Nikolai and Matt with digging holes in neat lines, holding up a flashlight.

Allen mounts Lutz’s bike, the keys and his lighter taken from Lutz’s pocket. Lovino follows him out of town and north, heading on backroads and keeping out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update because I forgot last week
> 
> Random headcannons:  
> Romeo is a big fan of Elvis. His favourite song is A Little Less Conversation A Little More Action Please.  
> Benny has heterochromia (eyes of different colours). The left is blue, the right is green. He was bullied for it as a child, and has grown his hair to keep one eye covered, hence his emo hair.  
> Jett is very protective of Benny and his self esteem.
> 
> Freelancing is hard. I know it. There is always more to be done, but you really don't wanna. But you gotta.
> 
> Next chapter: Matt and Allen sort out photographs, Nikolai and Oliver discuss bakeries and violence, and Jett and Benny are finally left alone


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters:  
> Lovino Vargas//Romano Italia  
> Allen Jones (Ali-baby)//2p!America  
> Benny Schmidt//Luxembourg  
> Matt Braginski//2p!Canada  
> Lutz Bielschmidt//2p!Germany  
> Oliver Kirkland//2p!England  
> Nikolai Braginski//2p!Russia  
> Jett Cook//Australia  
> Aldrich Bielschmidt//2p!Germania  
> Xien Leon (Firecracker)//Hong Kong  
> Gilbert Edelstein-Hedervary (Yellow Bird)//Prussia
> 
> Warnings for mentioned blood and violence

The bonfire is still burning as the sun rises. Lovino drives back down with Allen in the passenger seat, the motorbike abandoned on a slip road. (It’ll have been torn apart by scrappers by the end of the week, and there won’t be a bike to trace.)

Benny has gathered up the skewers and hidden them away in the kitchen. The group sit by the bonfire, eating breakfast picked up by Lovino and Allen as they came back. The blankets that had been around the bonfire have been gathered up and used as wraps, shared between couples.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Allen says, “I’ve never had any dead people trying to get revenge.”

“It doesn’t help,” Matt says plainly. (Mud clings to his knees and fingernails, and Lutz’s blood is still splattered up his face and shirt.)

“Poppet, it’s not so bad,” Oliver says gently, “He was going to kill someone and anyone who got in his way. Which would have included your brother and your husband. You did the right thing.”

“How is killing someone the right thing?”

“Think of it less as killing someone, and more as killing Lutz in particular,” Allen says, “Name one good thing about him.”

“He was determined.”

“Determined to make our lives hell.”

“He worked hard.”

“At making our lives hell.”

“He was kind to animals.”

“He was an ass to humans!”

“Animals are better than humans.”

Allen pauses. “I can’t argue with that. Except wasps. Fuck wasps.”

“Swear jar!” Oliver chimes.

“Really?”

Matt snorts.

“Really,” Oliver says, “I know you’re having a heart to heart, but the swear jar stops for no one.”

“Not if I ask **really** nicely?” Allen pouts.

“You’re tried that before, love. Did it work?”

“Please!” Allen whines, throwing his arms around Oliver.

Oliver squeals. “You’re covered in mud!”

“You’ve hugged me in worse!”

“Ali-baby!”

Allen nuzzles into Oliver’s side, and Lovino rolls his eyes.

Benny snuggles into Jett’s side. Jett’s shirt is still tear stained, and Benny’s eyelashes are still clumpy. No one had asked, only a few nods of understanding and a comforting arm rub from Lovino.

Lovino had left for Brooklyn by lunchtime. Matt and Allen sit opposite each other on the floor of the living room, passing photographs between each other. Three piles have been made; Matt’s, Allen’s and unwanted.

(The unwanted pictures all contain Aldrich or Lutz. Only Allen has a picture with Lutz and Aldrich in them; the one where Lutz has a split lip.)

(Matt has kept the picture of him with ribboned bunches. Nikolai joked about putting it up in the shop. Matt calmly dared him to. Nikolai probably will.)

Jett and Benny leave them to it, heading upstairs to double check measurements. Oliver and Nikolai sit in the kitchen, drinking tea. Nikolai draws in a sketchbook, Oliver chattering at him about baking.

“There’s a place down the road from the shop,” Nikolai says, cutting Oliver off.

“I beg your pardon, poppet?” Oliver asks.

“You said you wanted to open a bakery,” Nikolai says, “There’s a café down the road from the tattoo shop that keeps opening and closing and changing hands. The kitchen’s basically out of order, apparently.”

“I don’t exactly have the money to be renovating a kitchen! I’ve barely got the money to keep a stall going.”

“You could ask Jett and Benny. We’ve got plenty to threaten with.”

Oliver smacks Nikolai’s arm. “We’re not going to threaten people! That’s mean.”

“It’s a smart financial move.”

“It’s **mean**.”

“You can say nothing about being mean.”

Oliver purses his lips, sending Nikolai a glare.

“You can’t.”

“How much does Matt know? About your mafia days?”

“He knows I was a tattooist for a gang,” Nikolai says, pausing his sketch, “He knew at the time. I did not lie to him.”

“Does he know what happened to Firecracker?”

“It was self-defence.”

“Yellow Bird.”

“He hit me first.”

“You took his eye out!”

Nikolai hums. “I and Matvei both appear to go for the eyes.”

“’Matvei and I’, poppet. And that’s not a good thing.”

“I forgot the hockey stick had nails in it! It was only supposed to be for show!”

(He hadn’t remembered the hockey stick had nails in it until he’d realised Yellow Bird was bleeding. Hand clamped over his face, Yellow had fallen to his knees, screaming in pain. Red froze, hockey stick still held firm in front of him.)

Oliver raises an eyebrow.

“It was an accident,” Nikolai says firmly, “That worked in my favour, but still an accident.”

(Rumours about the Brooklyn Eagles spread like fire. “They’ll cut their own member, they’re ruthless.” “Even the tattooist can take your eye out.” “This is what happens when Russians and Italians band together.”)

Matt and Allen head into the kitchen, Matt stretching his arms.

“Are we all done?” Oliver chirps.

“Yeah, I think we are,” Allen says, sitting next to him.

“I’ve got no idea where we’re going to put most of the pictures, though,” Matt says, standing in front of the new fridge and continuing to stretch.

Nikolai grins, “The ribbons one-”

“Is going in the shop, I know,” Matt interrupts, laughing.

“Really?” Allen asks, grinning.

“Yes. People will ask me “Is that your daughter” and I can say “No it’s my husband” and they can be confused.”

“I don’t know how anyone asks you anything with all that racket in your shop,” Oliver says.

“People still try.”

“Do you think we should tell Benny and Jett we’re going?” Allen asks.

Matt stops stretching. “Probably. They might get paranoid if we just disappear.”

“I think we ought to head to a hotel, not straight home,” Oliver says, rising and rinsing his mug out, “None of us have slept.”

“I don’t usually sleep anyway,” Matt says, leaning casually on the table.

“Yes, dear, and it’s a bit obvious. Do you call them ‘Gucci and Prada’ in Canada, or do you name them after Canadian brands?” Oliver gestures to Matt’s eyes.

Matt laughs, rubbing his eye bags. “I call them ‘part of my face’. I can’t help being an insomniac. My doctor says it might be hormones, might be stress, might be both. Probably both.”

“Oh, poppet!” Oliver fawns.

“I’m fine, Oliver! I work freelance, I can sleep when I’m tired enough to.”

Nikolai closes up his sketchbook. “Usually in the middle of the day.”

“It’s better than not sleeping at all.”

Allen stands, pushing his and Oliver’s chairs back under the table.

Allen leads the way upstairs, Matt just behind him. Nikolai and Oliver stay in the kitchen, making sure the kitchen’s clean before they leave.

“Hey… Jett? Benny?” Allen calls.

“In here!” Benny calls.

Matt physically grimaces as they head into Matt’s childhood bedroom. “I’d forgotten how hideous this colour was, oh my god.”

“Yeah, I think we’ll have to strip it before we can repaint,” Jett says, “Unless we go red or something.”

“Red’s always good,” Matt nods.

“We’re just gonna go now,” Allen says, “We didn’t want you getting paranoid we were hiding somewhere or something like that.”

“And I guess we should say thanks,” Matt adds, “We probably wouldn’t have met back up if it weren’t for you two. So, I think we kinda owe you. A lot.”

Allen nods awkwardly.

“We just wanted someone to give the scrapbook to,” Benny says.

“Yeah. We didn’t mean to bring this mafia shit up,” Allen says, “If it’s any consolation, you’ll always have the support of the Brooklyn Eagles if you ever get caught up with another gang.”

“We’re going to avoid that best we can,” Jett says.

“Probably a good idea.”

“Probably.”

Matt sighs. “Well… bye, I guess.”

“Drive safe,” Jett says. Benny just nods.

Allen waves as he turns to leave, following Matt back downstairs. Oliver and Nikolai are by the front door, waiting for them.

The door closes, and the house is quiet and empty for several long seconds. Car doors slam, engines rev, and they drive away, the noise of the Jones brothers fading, taking their photographs with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end.  
> Not really, there's an epilogue. I'm not good at endings.
> 
> Yes, Matt saying "Red's always good" was a pun on Nikolai's name. There was another one earlier, when Allen was looking at Matt and Nikolai's prom pictures and Jett says "Maybe if the dress was more Matt."  
> It's dumb and pointless and I don't think anyone noticed them but I felt clever putting them. Being a writer is a kinda sad life.
> 
> Just so you know  
> I originally wrote this where Aldrich had passed away and Sarah (Matt/Allen/Lutz's Mommy) put herself in a care home.  
> In that version, Matt and Allen updated the scrapbook, and Jett and Benny took it to her.  
> Sarah was surprised to see the updates. Then angry, thinking it was some sort of prank.  
> Jett had a go at her, with strong suggestions that he'd been thrown out by his own family.  
> Allen and Matt are unsurprised, but still mad/upset, by Sarah's reaction.  
> Jett considers e-mailing his dad, with attachments of pictures of him and Benny, and the work they've done. He deletes the e-mail without sending. When he goes downstairs, Benny is on Skype with his mother who is fully aware and accepting of Jett and Benny's relationship and only worries that her son is so far away.  
> I couldn't get the ending to work on that version, and the beginning was clunky. I also preferred the fight scene in this version, as I said a couple of summaries ago. I do regret having to get rid of the Jett/Benny altercation though.
> 
> I own nothing  
> I like rambling in the author's note  
> Next chapter; Epilogue! Jett and Benny finish the house, and move on to their next project


	16. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters:  
> Jett Kirkland /Australia  
> Benny Schmidt/Luxembourg  
> Matt Braginski/2p!Canada  
> Aldrich Bielschmidt/2p!Germania  
> Sarah Jones  
> Allen Jones/2p!America  
> Romeo Vargas/Ancient Rome  
> Feliks Łukasiewicz (Estate agent)/Poland  
> Oliver Kirkland/2p!England  
> Lutz Bielschmidt/2p!Germany  
> Nikolai Braginski/2p!Russia  
> Ekaterina Braginskaya/2p!Ukraine  
> Natasha Arlovskaya (Tash)/2p!Belarus  
> Lily Zwingli/2p!Liechtenstein  
> Lorenzo Armati (man in brown overalls)/2p!Veneziano
> 
> Warning for some dark/death-related humour

Jett and Benny decide to paint Matt’s previous room red, using a deep red over the neon to produce a bright crimson. The attic is left plain, only the floorboards needing any work. Aldrich’s room is brightened up, Sarah’s room is empty.

The pair have pulled out most of the doors and windows, replacing them with a ‘traditional’ set that function like modern ones, with double glazing and latches and jagged keys, without losing the straight-out-a-postcard aesthetic. The driveway has been re-levelled and re-paved, the daunting metal fence replaced with a neat hedgerow, and the roof tiles reset.

It hasn’t been their toughest job, but Jett and Benny will be glad if it’s not their easiest.

Just over a year has passed since Matt and Allen left for good. Romeo’s primroses have prospered well. (The head of the local environment agency asked what fertiliser he used. Romeo had just smiled, babbled some nonsense about hard work and lots of attention.)

Benny is doing the final checks of the house, Jett talking to Romeo over the fence.

“Feliks says that a young couple’s moving in with their adopted sons,” Romeo chatters away, “I can’t wait! It’ll be good to have some kids running around the land again, utilise it properly, y’know? I don’t know how old the sons are. Hopefully I’ll be able to hire one of them to mow my lawn, look how long it’s been getting. I’d do it myself, but my old **back** I tell you!”

“The place is empty and done with,” Benny announces as he leaves, locking the front door behind him. There’s something very final about the way he steps away from the door.

Jett takes a deep breath. “Looks like we’re off, then.”

“Just like that?” Romeo marvels, “Ah, it’s been good knowing you both.”

“We’ve got to hand the keys in with the agents’ first,” Benny says, “And we’ll be on our way to the next job.”

“You’ve got one already?”

“Just a small kitchen renovation in a café. About a month’s work, we reckon. We’ve got a couple more enquiries. We’re doing well, I think,” Benny hooks an arm around Jett’s waist.

Romeo nods, smiling. “You’ve got my number, haven’t you? If you ever need anything.”

“We’ll be a bit far south, I think,” Jett says.

“Don’t doubt my contacts.”

* * *

 

Oliver greets them on the floor of the café, bouncing in excitement.

“Thank you so much for doing this!” he gushes.

“Now, now, your payments are thanks enough,” Jett says seriously, and Oliver giggles.

“Everything’s arriving at the end of the week, isn’t it,” Benny says, pulling his notebook out his bag.

“Yes, it is. As long as the companies pull through, of course.”

Benny nods, and Jett heads through to the kitchen. It’s big and drab, the ovens and stovetops dull with wear, the tiles faded and cracked. Burn marks scar the walls and ceiling.

Allen heads in through the back door, rubbing his hands together to bring some warmth into them. “Hey, Jett!”

He greets Jett with a hug. He smells of cigarette smoke and motor oil.

“Hey, mate,” Jett claps Allen on the back and pulls away, “How’ve you been?”

“Busy. Very busy. Moving, changing jobs, saving up, you know how it is.”

Jett nods. “The house has gone to a family. Little kids, they’ll love it.”

“I know me and Matt did.” (Lutz did too.) “Y’know, I really appreciate you and Benny doing this for us.”

“I already told Oliver, your payments are thanks enough.”

Allen laughs. “Money makes the world turn, don’t it?”

“I thought that was love.”

“Well ain’t you a sap?”

Jett laughs. “What about the oldest Jones boy?”

“Nah, he’s a Braginski these days. But he’s good. Nikolai says he’s been sleeping better. Had a few nightmares, but he’s okay. He’s been okay. Ask about him about his new tattoo though.”

“What’s his new tattoo?”

“Ask him. He’s only up the road.”

Jett stares at Allen. “Why can’t you just tell me?”

“Because I’m an ass. C’mon, I need to go make sure Mister and Mister Braginski are eating something other than take out.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. Turns out neither of them can cook. Matt can make pancakes, Nikolai can make pretty much any vodka cocktail you can think of, but nothing better than that.”

“Wow.”

As Nikolai had said, Matt’s picture of him with ribbon bunches is up in the shop, behind the counter. A picture of Nikolai in his first school uniform is up next to it. (Katyusha helpfully donated it. Nikolai hates it.)

A muscular young woman, already heavily tattooed, sits in Nikolai’s chair, Nikolai working carefully on her finger. Another woman, slimmer and covered in flower tattoos, sits in an armchair near the window, flipping through one of Nikolai’s sketchbooks.

Allen switches the blaring music off, then on, off, and on again. A few seconds pass, Allen leaning over Nikolai’s shoulder to review Nikolai’s work. “Cute. Are you getting something to match, Tash?”

“Natasha,” the woman in the armchair says dully, “And yes I am.”

“Jett, this Nikolai’s little sister, Natasha. This is Natasha’s fiancée, Lily. Lesbians, this is Jett.”

(‘Little sister’ is a loose term. They’re related somehow, distant cousins who knows how many times removed. But ‘little sister’ is less of a mouthful. And with their matching dark hair and Russian accents, their American schoolmates had just accepted it.)

Lily gives Jett a wave with her free hand. Natasha sends him a nod.

Matt appears down the stairs, shirt sleeveless and cling film wrapped around his upper arm. “You will not believe how shit this film I’ve been sent is.”

“You need to stop swearing before you even check if Oliver’s here or not,” Allen says, “Jett’s here.”

“Oh. Hey! I thought you were coming tomorrow.”

“It’s Wednesday, Matt,” Allen says.

“Are you sure?”

“A hundred per cent. Show Jett your tattoo.”

Matt looks at Jett. “Which one, I have a few.”

Allen face palms.

“Your new one, apparently,” Jett says.

Matt sighs, and Nikolai laughs from the chair. Matt unwraps the cling film and curls his arm behind his head.

At first it looks like a generic arrow tattoo, pointing up from his elbow and dipping ‘under’ his skin, the word “aufgespeiβt” written over the ‘pierced’ skin in a vibrant blue. Deep red blood drips down the metal arrow shaft. The arrow has a thin head, and no feathers. Instead, a small circle sits at the end, a small chunk of green pepper above it.

“Oh my god, it’s a skewer,” Jett dead pans.

“Yep,” Allen agrees, “And that,” he jabs the word, “Means ‘skewered’ in German.”

Matt laughs, dropping his arm. “Don’t, I’m ticklish!”

Allen gasps like he’s been given the best news in his life.

“No! I need to re-wrap this,” Matt says firmly, pushing Allen out the way to grab cling film and lotion from under the counter.

“Fetch them over here when you’re done, I’m almost done with Lily,” Nikolai calls.

“That is dark, mate,” Jett says.

“What? The tat? Yeah, it is a bit,” Matt admits, “But it helped. I’ve always had a dark humour, I wanted another tattoo and it was a decent break from work that wasn’t staring at a wall. It was… cathartic.”

Lily and Natasha both frown. (They’ve never questioned the meanings behind Matt or Nikolai’s tattoos. It was like an unspoken agreement to never talk about their pasts or whatever their pasts might have left them with, including any strange objects or quirks or pictures.)

“What about you, though,” Matt asks, “Ever considered tattoos?”

Jett chuckles. “Yeah, but I don’t know. I’ve never really known what I wanted.”

“It’s your choice,” Allen says, giving Jett a clap on the shoulder.

The bell tinkles as Oliver and Benny arrive.

“You locked up, right?” Allen says.

“No, love, I’m a complete idiot,” Oliver says sarcastically.

Lily pulls her hand away from Nikolai, surveying the small flower on her finger with a smile.

“And you, Benny? Ever considered a tat?” Matt asks.

“Oh no, I’m terrible with needles,” Benny says, shaking his head quickly.

Matt wraps Lily’s finger as Natasha sits in the chair, giving Nikolai her hand.

“Keep it clean, keep it moisturised, you know the gist,” Matt says, “But it’s your finger, so you have to take extra care because you use your hands and your fingers a lot.”

“Was that a lesbian joke?” Lily asks.

“Your face is a lesbian joke,” Matt shoots back.

The corner of Lily’s mouth twitch. (Allen and Oliver have learnt that Lily doesn’t smile for most people. While deadpan humour sends a flash of laughter across her face, they’ve only seen her really smile for Natasha.)

“Oh sh-shoot!” Matt cries. He drops Lily’s hand and dashes upstairs.

“Is he okay?” Benny asks.

“He’s a little scatter brained sometimes,” Allen says.

Matt runs back down, camera in hand. “You need your front of house photo, Al.”

“The café isn’t even built yet!” Allen whines.

Matt points up the stairs, “You know where the scrapbook is. Go check the first spread.”

“I know!” Allen sighs.

“You’re carrying the scrapbook on?” Benny asks, half smirking.

“It was Allen’s idea. He just doesn’t want to actually do it,” Matt says.

“Come on, it’ll be sweet!” Oliver says, dragging Allen out the shop.

Matt follows them, down the road to the shop. Oliver stands in front of its doors, adjusts Allen’s clothes and smooths his hair down.

A man wanders up, scanning the three. He’s fairly short, with brown overalls. “You’re the new buyers, eh?”

“They are. I live nearby,” Matt says.

“Businesses don’t stay here long. It’s a great place, but the kitchen’s kaput.”

Matt stares at the man. “I’m sure they’ll make it work.”

“That’s what they all say. Every six months.”

“Do you want something?”

The man blinks at him. “No. My apologies.”

He turns and walks away quickly. Matt watches after him, confused.

“Hey Matt! You gonna take this picture?”

“Oh, yeah.”

Matt raises the camera, snapping several pictures in succession. Allen smiles broadly, arm wrapped around Oliver’s shoulders. The building leers over them, a challenge waiting to be overcome, empty rooms to fill with life like the untouched pages of a scrapbook.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meh endings.  
> I didn't realise until I was uploading this chapter that Matt is a transgender translator. Trans trans. That wasn't intentional, just bad planning.
> 
> Random headcannnons  
> Romeo actually does have back problems. Too much corpse-dragging in his youth.  
> The family moving into the old house is SuFin with Sealand and Erland (and Hanatamago)  
> The switching the music off/on/off/on is a signal agreed between Allen and Matt to save Allen going up the stairs. Allen is lazy. The signal works almost everytime, unless Matt has fallen asleep.  
> Benny does eventually get a tattoo, designed and done by Nikolai. It features three bees. ("Beer, burgers and Benny. Three 'B's I will never turn down and always enjoy" -Jett, this fic)  
> The cafe is, of course, a booming success. Oliver is run ragged, and eventually Allen stops working in the factory to help. Money's tight but they're both happy. Matt sometimes helps with lunchtime rushes, and the cafe becomes popular with some immigrant populations because of him and his languages.  
> Romeo and Lovino visit the cafe a few times. Lovino sees the humour in Matt's latest tattoo. Romeo doesn't.  
> Feliciano (Lovino's brother) visits a couple of times on his brother and Nonno's word, with Ludwig (Germany, assistant detective on Allen's case). Allen hides in the kitchen from them.  
> Matt and Nikolai go to a highschool reunion. Once their old teachers recognise Matt (and realise the pair are gay-married) they get kicked out the party and go on a bender. As you do.  
> A fluffy stray dog that looks slightly like a small, shaggy bear (2p!Kumajiro) wanders around the streets where the studio and cafe are located. Matt and Allen both keep feeding it. Allen nicknamed it Calico, but Matt keeps forgetting the name and coming out with diminutives like Coco. It became a bit of a meme between the pair.
> 
> In the original epilogue, Matt and Allen sent Sarah pictures of Allen's stag do and wedding. She put the pictures back in the envelope, in the back of the scrapbook which she kept under the bed. In case you were interested. I really didn't like that ending.
> 
> And that, my darling readers, is the end. I thank you for reading, and for all your lovely reviews.  
> I own nothing  
> -Laurel Silver


End file.
